


Supply and Demand 2: Repeat Business

by tari_roo



Series: Supply and Demand [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Empath, Empath Dean Winchester, Gen, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-26
Updated: 2010-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tari_roo/pseuds/tari_roo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Criminal Minds/SPN Crossover AU. Mitch Koravi was dead, to begin with. But when a man is  killed using his exact MO, the BAU have to eat humble pie and bring back the Empath told them their case was not closed, Dean Winchester</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to my story [Supply and Demand: Unwanted](http://tari-roo.livejournal.com/11584.html). You may want to read that first in order for some of the AU background to make sense

Chapter 1

1 Month ago

 

_ It had become a necessity to investigate the details, the minutia of Mitch Koravi’s life. The man may already be on the autopsy table in the FBI morgue but Hotchner knew that they had to continue to profile the man and thus visit the study which would have been one of their first stops had Winchester not picked up the trail so quickly. _

_ If Koravi had revisited his first two crime scenes, an unknown face in the crowd, it would add to the profile which so far was pretty damn contradictory. For a disorganized, opportunistic killer to return to the scene of the crime spoke to ego, pride, a sense of wanting to connect again to the victim, the investigation. Maybe it spoke to remorse, but Koravi had definitely decided to revisit the scene of his most recent murder, and fortuitously, Winchester had  _ felt _him and he’d bolted. The similarity to Sorenson was disconcerting... why would Koravi copy Sorenson to the letter? Right down to the detail of returning to the scene ... right up to getting caught._

_ The unanswered questions meant they had to complete their profile, even if it was post mortem. _

_ Rossi and Reid were hunched together in the corner, oohing and ahhing over some of the items Koravi had ‘borrowed’ from the library of the Centre for Contemporary Arab studies, attached to the Georgetown University. Prentiss was interviewing the students who had neighbouring studies, while Morgan was hovering in the middle of the room. He seemed ill at ease, as if the unusual take down and subsequent fatal shooting had robbed him of the sense of finalisation and in a way, Aaron was disturbed that he knew Derek was feeling that and he was not just guessing or surmising. Morgan was trying very hard not to stare at Winchester, who was carefully ignoring everyone. _

_ Dean was paging through Koravi’s notes, reading with real interest, flipping through some pages, pouring over others. The itch to touch, to connect, was vibrant and Hotch studiously locked it away. It hadn’t been necessary to connect, as he had suspected and the sooner he could give Winchester back to T&E the better. _

_ The study was ordered, but messy as if Koravi had recently straightened up and then tossed the place trying to find something. There were very few indicators of a disturbed psyche though and that was bothering Hotch, more than anything. The more they looked into Koravi’s personal life, the less sense his psychotic break made, let alone the leap to copy Sorenson’s MO. The only possible stressor was the trip to the Jeffersonian and the theft of an ancient dagger.  _

_ The first murder, Don Samuels, had taken place in an alley behind Koravi’s apartment, bloody and messy, and yet this study only presented the ordered mind of a student of the Near and Middle East. Stable family, no history of relationship troubles, socialised, well adjusted, intelligent yet hardly top of his class, no reports of clashes with professors or students until... killing Samuels, an intern at the Jeffersonian.  _

_ It was a sobering thought indeed that without Winchester, it may well have taken them far longer anda higher body count to even identify Koravi, as the link to Samuels had been tenuous, a correspondence record which Garcia had only found from Koravi’s side – a brief email to Samuels, which the PD detectives had not had time verify on Samuel’s email. _

_ “This isn’t over.” Head snapping up, caught up in his thoughts, Aaron said, “What?” _

_ Winchester was uncomfortably close, a good couple of feet away, the air around him humming with energy. Morgan obviously did not feel the charge, or perhaps it didn’t bother him, as he bumped Winchester absently, trying to get a look at the mole skin book in his hands. _

_ “His diary?” _

_ “Thesis notes.” _

_ Winchester’s voice was hard, weary, his eyes a little bloodshot and watery. His determination however was clear and he said again, “This ain’t over.” He held out the book but Hotch made no move to take it, content, nay eager to maintain his distance. Morgan did however, reading the entry Winchester had open. _

_ “Why do you say that?” _

_ Pursing his lips, then licking the bottom one briefly, Winchester said, “A feeling?” _

_ The question mark was audible, the doubt or hesitation obvious. Rossi and Reid both looked up, twin heads of curiosity.  _

_ Everyone looked at Winchester for further explanation and before he could say anything else, Rossi interjected, “There is nothing here, or at his home to suggest that this was nothing more than a psychotic break. An odd one, sure and an unusual leap to copy cat another murderer. But... why, what leads you to think there is a partner, or more to it?” _

_ The question was genuine, but so was the disdain. Rossi had very little time for Winchester that much had been obvious from the beginning. Winchester stiffened, a slight rise of emotion in the air, but he said calmly, “Just a feeling.” _

_ And Rossi replied with the disbelief reserved for the delusional, “Right. A feeling.” _

_ “Yeah.” And Winchester offered nothing more, his defiant ‘whatever’ tangible. Hotch nodded at Morgan, who took the book and backed off, leaving Hotchner and his Empath with a modicum of privacy. Rossi returned to poking around, Reid however gave every indication that he fully intended to listen in. _

_ Stepping closer than he’d like, Aaron said quietly, hating that what should have been a viable, logical, empirical investigation was ... tainted with ‘feelings,’ “What kind of feeling? What exactly...” _

_ Winchester kept his distance but hissed in reply none the less, eyes only for Hotch. “Like there’s something else going on. Doesn’t this feel off to you? Too easy, too simple. A guy just cracks and starts killing? Picks the Sorenson murder and copies it, hoping that’ll be enough to cover his tracks?” _

_ Dean believed it, he truly did. And Hotchner couldn’t help agreeing. It did feel off, too easy, which was why they were here, trying to make sense of Koravi’s mindframe. So he pressed further, trying to get something tangible, a lead they could work on. “What? A partner? He knew Sorenson? What, Dean?” _

_ The name felt and sounded odd on his lips, comfortable but too... familiar but Winchester was slow to reply, weighing his words with deliberation. “Not sure... maybe a connection to Sorenson... something. Don’t know exactly but we really need to find that knife.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ “Just do.” _

_ And right there, right then, Hotch felt it. Felt the nudge, the twist of manipulation, of deception. Kinetic he might be, but he knew when he was being told half truths, misdirected, pushed to rely on Empathic say so. Studying Dean, Aaron wondered just how desperate he was to stay away from T&E, to stay out in the field, maybe ... run. Without a connection, however tentative, it was difficult to get a good read on Winchester if he was not leaking but no matter now tempting it was, Aaron backed off and said, “Gonna need to more than that, Winchester.” _

_ For a moment it seemed like Dean was going to argue, he certainly braced himself to do so, but something changed, maybe a spike in emotion, reading Hotchner’s resolve, or it was the intense interest from Reid and instead Winchester stepped back and said, “Fine. Don’t believe me.” _

_ He turned away, increasing the distance between them and Hotch shot a look at Morgan, wondering if anything in the note book could explain Dean’s statement or belief... but Derek was shaking his head. Nothing in there that lead him to the same conclusion. Rossi was watching them as well, Reid’s attention unwavering. _

_ It was ... disconcerting... and Aaron knew that on any other case his team would not be watching him with such concern. He knew Winchester would feel the spike of irritation, knew it was directed at him but Hotch couldn’t help it.  _

_ “Come on, back to work – we’ve got a profile to complete.” _

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_ “You have to remember that his own interests are best served by staying out in the field.” _

_ Hotch felt his heart skip a beat, he’d been so caught up in his thoughts, worrying that maybe Winchester was right and that he was letting his own bias, own loathing of T&E abilities blind him to the possible danger, that he hadn’t heard Rossi approach.  _

_ Their small conference room was filled with paperwork from the case, coroner reports and witness interviews. Prentiss was ‘minding’ Winchester near the break room, ensuring he stayed away from the coffee and doughnuts. Ignoring the no longer subtle irritation from Winchester, especially now with Emily watching him, was fairly easy compared to dealing with Rossi’s intent interest.  _

_ Rossi looked concerned, his face set and posture relaxed. Reid was hovering behind him, floppy hair in disarray. They both radiated... concern. Deciding to agree, Aaron sighed, “True, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong.” The drive back to the office had given him enough time to wonder – wonder if he was letting his own emotions blind him. _

_ Reid actually looked at Rossi first before saying, “I... we disagree. We think that ... he’s annoyed it was so easy, that ... he’s going back so soon. Koravi was smart enough to use Sorenson as a possible cover but didn’t count on us, you, using an Empath.” _

_ Rubbing away the itch the thought of Dean evoked, Hotchner said, “Look, I know he’s leaking and you guys don’t have the same barriers ... and that he’s tough to be around but ...” _

_ “It’s more than that, Aaron. His profile more than supports a manipulative, sociopathic personality. He’s been on his guard around us, well aware that we would notice his attempts to manipulate so he hasn’t tried that with us,” Rossi said softly. _

_ “You’re different though – er... more likely to be sympathetic towards him,” Reid added, very very uncomfortable with the conversation. “Your, ah, natural inclination to be protective and uh, supportive, to be open to ... him.” _

_ Reid stopped talking at Hotch’s baleful glare, but Rossi pressed on. “Whether you like it or not, Aaron and I know you dislike this Kinetic ability intensely, it doesn’t change the way you feel... could feel about him. And I think you need to be reminded... that he is extremely capable of manipulating you, manoeuvring you into letting him escape, deceiving you.” _

_ Unnecessarily, Reid added, “He is hardly here willingly. The profile on him before his arrest...” _

_ “I get it,” Hotch interrupted, waving his hand angrily, “I do. I understand the possibility, the real chance that he’s trying to pull a fast one – get us to trust him, drop our guard, my guard. But... what if it’s not a lie? What if he’s being straight with us and we’re letting our own bias dissuade us otherwise?” _

_ Rossi paused and said calmly, “Did you feel that he was completely honest with you?” _

_ And for that Hotchner had only one reply. No. Winchester was hiding something, holding something back, but ... _

_ Reid however hit the nail on the head as he said, “The odds of there being a partner, or anyone else involved are ... highly unlikely, I could... it’s more likely, far more likely, that Winchester is playing you, Hotch. Purely on probabilities.” _

_ And that, Aaron could not deny.  _

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**Now**   
  


On automatic, Hotchner snatched up the phone, room still dark, eyes still closed and hit ‘accept’ by habit more than anything. “Hotchner.”

Half expecting to hear the familiar voice of JJ, Aaron sat up in bed when the unwelcome voice of Chief Strauss came through loud and clear. “We have another murder, Agent Hotchner. Same MO as the Koravi killings – to the letter.”

A deep, unpleasant feeling stirred within him, something very much akin to fear and nausea. “Where?”

Her voice was so detached and emotionless, it was difficult to reconcile to his suddenly pounding heart. “About a mile or so from the last crime scene – where you caught Koravi. What in the hell is going on, Hotchner? NCIS close the case with Sorenson, you close it with Koravi- all using the same Empath and a month later, we have another murder!”

“Ma’am, our profile was...”

“Profile, Hotchner? Profile? I’ve read better dialogue in a soap opera than that profile. Vague, imprecise, unprofessional – incomplete! The only reason you caught Koravi was because the Empath found him and if it wasn’t for the staggering amount of physical evidence confirming Koravi’s guilt I’d be charging you with obstruction of justice and negligence. Get your ass down to that crime scene, give me a proper profile and figure out what in the hell is going on – and close the damn case!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Aaron slowly put the phone down, its screen blinking off as it lay on the bed covers. Well aware of what his next move should be, a call to JJ, scramble the team, ream out Rossi and Reid, there was a large, angry part of him which kept him immobile. As urgent as this case was, as immediate as the need was to act, Aaron couldn’t stop thinking that this would be an excuse, a very good reason, to see Winchester again. And that ... pissed him off.

20 years of being independent, secure and free from T&E and 2 days spent with Winchester a month ago and now the mere possibility of seeing him again sent his heartrate climbing. And as much as it wasn’t Dean’s fault per say, it was as well, and T&E’s and the situation, but Hotch couldn’t help feeling furious that as hard as he tried not to get attached or influenced or hell, hooked, it seemed he had. A month of careful, controlled emotions, ignoring the errant stray thought about Winchester and wham... just like that he needed to see him, like he needed to breathe.

Shoving that all away, locking it down, and putting on his game face, Aaron climbed out of bed, stood up and dialled JJ, well aware of the early hour. One short, shocked conversation later, and she was alerting the team. Even at close to 4am she sounded professional and on top of things, and she’d arrange for everyone to meet him at the crime scene.

Once he was dressed, suit stiff from the dry cleaners, Hotchner called Chief Strauss back, well aware that she was probably asleep by now. “Yes, ma’am, on our way. I need you to authorise the expense of an emergency Empath. Yes, ma’am, I know – but if you want this tied up quickly, I need Winchester.”

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**T &E Center - Now**

 

“Agent Hotchner, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Agent Andrews.” Aaron Hotchner was the epitome of a professional, emotionally detached BAU Agent. And if that didn’t get Andrews goat just a little, it certainly made him want to try and ‘press’ a few buttons.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Something I can help you with?” Andrews smiled, oh so pleasantly, giving Hotchner his undivided attention.

“I need Dean Winchester.” Straight to the point, direct, no pussyfooting around. 

“I’m sure you do, Agent Hotchner but I can schedule a session with any of our Pool ‘Paths...” Andrews replied disingenuously. Agent Hotchner had never once since his registration visited the T&E centre in a personal capacity. But Dean Winchester was the purest form of Kinetic Crack around and it usually only took one taste.

“No, I need Winchester specifically. We have a similar case to the last one he assisted us on, and I can’t afford to let this unsub build up momentum.” Flat direct and earnest.

He couldn’t help the smile and the drawl of, “I’m sure...”

Agent Hotchner’s reaction was simply to hand over a thick file, “Here’s the old case file, if you need further evidence, but I’m afraid I must insist.”

Taking the file, but not opening it, Andrews coughed, “One of our other Empaths can surely...”

“No, Dean demonstrates an affinity for ... the criminal mindset and behaviour. As time is of the essence, it must be him.” 

Laughing a little, Agent Andrews leant back in his chair and said, “Oh he has an affinity all right. Look Hotchner, the ‘Pool Paths have a strict schedule and class 2s like Winchester are in high demand. I can’t simply drop everything and bump a dozen or so Telekinetics whose needs...”

The interruption was smooth, effortless, a practiced interrogator, “Are hardly more important than catching a serial killer – before he strikes again, Andrews.” 

More shaking his head than nodding, Andrews hmmmed before drawling, “Granted, but we have policies and procedures for a reason...”

“We will pay the emergency fee, as usual.”

“And that fee just gets you an emergency Empath – whoever happens to be available. And Winchester is not available.” Andrews said that with all the finality he could muster, carefully watching for a reaction, an indication of annoyance. 

Hotchner placed his hands on Andrew’s desk, leant forward and said very calmly, “This is not a negotiation, Andrews. I need Winchester and if I have to go above your head, again, I will do so. Your planning and budgeting needs do not outweigh the lives of the innocent. I want Winchester – now.”

Andrews smiled stiffly, and said, “Then you better make that call, Agent Hotchner, because I’m not giving him to you without it.”

Without a further word, Hotchner left with remarkable fortitude and did not slam the door. His stiff little smile blossoming into a full on smirk, Andrews picked up the phone and dialled an extension.

“Kimball? Yeah, start prepping Winchester for a solo assignment – yeah, yeah, I know he’s in the middle of a prep already, just amp it up.”

It took 15 minutes for the call to reach him and Andrews calmly answered the call from the T&E Director, “Yes, sir, understood sir. I’ll have him ready as soon as possible.” Glancing over the paperwork Hotchner would need to sign, Andrews smiled, looked up at the clock and said to himself, “Perfect timing.” Kimball was waiting with Winchester at the entrance to the ‘Path quarters, and Andrews nodded for Dean to follow, which he did.... slowly. 

Hotchner was waiting in the Kinetic Reception, the large room painted in colours designed to cool, soothe and defrazzle the rattled kinetic. Aaron Hotchner still looked cool, calm and collected and there were no tells if he needed an ‘empathic’ fix, at all. Ice cold Bastard. 

He wasn’t alone in the room, as two other Kinetics were waiting for treatment sessions, and all three of them turned as one as Andrews entered the room, Winchester on his heels. Dean Winchester was a little woozy from the prep, unsteady on his feet, gaze blank and unfocused.

“Agent Hotchner, as requested... so pleasantly.” Andrews held out the paperwork, unconsciously reaching out to hold Winchester’s arm, just to steady him of course. As usual Winchester tried to move away, swaying as he did but Andrews was well used to his skittish Empath’s ways and squeezed tightly, relishing the thrill of electricity than ran through him.

Silently, Hotchner scanned the paperwork, his gaze fixed on the forms, and Andrews didn’t catch a single glance at the Empath. Damn, he was good – no tells at all. 

The other two Empaths however, had not sat down and were staring at Winchester, who in turn was staring at his shoes or the carpet, whichever was more interesting. 

“Done.” Hotchner handed back the forms and said, “And his bag?”

“Reception will have one waiting for you.”

Hotchner nodded and said softly, looking at Winchester for the first time, “It’s good to see you again, Dean.”

Naturally there was no response from Winchester, but he did look up at Hotchner, his expression suitably blank.

“Do you want to ... connect here?” Andrews asked brightly, inserting as much sincerity as he could. Hotchner however shook his head. “It won’t be necessary, that’s not why ... we really need to be going.”

“Sure, of course.” Andrews made no move to let Winchester go and just as Hotchner opened his mouth, Utchdorf arrived. Hans Utchdorf was a kinetic contracted out to a large construction firm and was used to throwing his weight around. Tall, muscled and with a highly inflated opinion of himself, he was one of T&E’s prize Kinetics... and brought in the revenue to prove it.

“Right on time,” Andrews muttered to himself. 

“What the hell, Andrews – why has my booking been moved?”

Hans Utchdorf was a towering figure of outraged kinetic energy and the moment he saw Winchester and then Hotchner, the level of tension in the room amplified. 

“Who the hell do you think you are? I’ve been waiting months – months for Winchester!” Utchdorf closed the space between himself and Hotchner in seconds and actually had the temerity to jab an indignant finger at Aaron. 

Andrews made no move to intercede, moving back instead, dragging Winchester with him, happy to let Hotchner deal with the irate Kinetic. The movement however, Dean moving away from them, had both their heads swinging in that direction. 

Realising his mistake too late, Andrews felt the _shove_ before he’d even processed what the situation was devolving into, and although it was not forceful enough to send him flying, it was enough that he lost his grip on Winchester. Utchdorf was already moving, hands outstretched towards Winchester. Too many months without a connection, too much anticipation and he was losing control. 

The collective “No!”and kinetic _surge_ from Hotchner and one of the other Kinetics was enough to send Dean to his knees, both hands clutching at his head. Actually, honest to goodness growling, Utchdorf snarled at the others, “Back off!”

All three kinetics continued to move towards the Empath though, especially when Utchdorf grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and _pushed_ down, both physically and kinetically. “He’s mine!” 

Whether Utchdorf was just too out of control or just crazy enough to try it, they all _felt_ him try and force a permanent connection with Winchester, who stiffened, knuckles going white in his hair. 

“Stop!” Hotchner drew his weapon, but even as Utchdorf tried to _connect_ , there was a _surge_ of controlled, fury coloured empathic energy and then Utchdorf went flying, literally knocked off his feet. He collapsed, boneless, but moaning and shaking.

Hotchner shook his head, his own ears ringing, the distinct feeling of biting tinfoil or metal in his mouth. The feeling of static electricity in the room was vibrant and Dean’s chest was heaving with exertion, his eyes fixed on Utchdorf, who continued to writhe.

Andrews, shaken, quickly called for help, but there were T&E personnel already running towards the room. A couple of burly orderly type guys heaved Utchdorf to his feet and hustled him out the room, removing his troubling presence. The other two Kinetics followed quickly, shooting nervous glances at Winchester.

Andrews waved away the remaining staff and said softly, “No, let Agent Hotchner – it’s an emergency call out anyway.”

Perhaps if Hotchner had been less controlled, or rather less in control, Andrews might have _felt_ something in the withering glare shot at him, but the urgency of the case was not diminished. Reholstering his weapon, Aaron took a deep breath to calm himself down and stepped towards Winchester.

The rise in the empathic _surge_ was palpable, and Winchester had not let go of his head, still hunched on his knees, trying to keep it together.

Securely locking away his emotions, tightening the mental hatches on his needs, wants and desires, Aaron knelt next to Dean and said as quietly as he could while still being audible. “You said that it wasn’t the end, that Koravi was not alone. We didn’t, I didn’t believe you .... and now it’s started again. Just like you said it would. So ... I’m sorry – for not believing you. And for ... I am sorry. We need your help – *we* need your help.” Aaron stressed the ‘we’ as much as he could and tried to get Dean to meet his eyes. Winchester responded perhaps to the plea, perhaps just to the proximity of a Kinetic and raised pain filled eyes.

“Please.” Aaron put as much emotion into that plea as he could and sent the mental reassurance that he was needed. They stayed that way for awhile, long enough for Hotchner’s knees to start to ache, which actually didn’t take too long these days. Finally, Dean nodded, dropped his hands and began to climb to his feet

Unconsciously, Hotchner reached out to help him, but Dean pulled away, staying out of reach. Andrews was immediately there, apparently fighting the same urge to touch, help Dean rise, hands out stretched but not actually touching. Unable to force the usual cheer in his voice, Andrews said, “Great – all done, all happy. So let’s get you out of here before ...”

Neither Winchesternor Hotchner bothered to even look at the man, and Dean lead the way out of the room, the remaining personnel parting to let him past, with ample room. 

Just as Aaron reached the door, Andrews called out, “Agent Hotchner!” Looking back, firmly keeping his opinion of the man off his face, Aaron raised a querulous eyebrow

“Just remember the rules, Agent Hotchner, no permanent connections.” But Aaron did not stick around to hear the end, his rising fury at Andrews rapidly becoming difficult to contain. 

Left alone in the room, Andrews couldn’t help the rather nervous smile and he rubbed his arms a little, removing the static sensation. “Well that was fun.”

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- _ “The connection to an Empath is a heady experience, like the lights being turned on and everything just suddenly becoming clearer. Jeanette was a pretty weak Empath, but our connection made everything feel so ... real. The T&E handler said our closed loop connection would increase both of our abilities tenfold and he was right. I felt like I was on top of the world, life was in technicolour for the first time and when I lost her... lost that link, it was like going back to an old black and white set, flat and monochrome. T&E said she was helping more Kinetics this way, and sure, spending time near her helped, but it wasn’t technicolour anymore, not bright and vibrant. I hated the other Kinetics, those who had sessions before and after me, hated the very idea of them. In the end, I decided black and a white was better than washed out colours. My last session with Jeanette was over ten years ago and I can still see her blank eyes, vacant expression. Her empathic field may have felt wonderful to be near, but I missed her smile. Walking away was both the easiest and hardest thing I have ever done. I hate myself for not being brave enough to take her with me.” _

- _ Intro to ‘Memoirs of a Kinetic’ by George Smith (unpublished) _

 

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	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Criminal Minds/SPN Crossover AU. Mitch Koravi was dead, to begin with. But when a man is killed using his exact MO, the BAU have to eat humble pie and bring back the Empath told them their case was not closed, Dean Winchester

Chapter 2

T&E – One Month Ago

 

The Kinetic Reception room was the epitome of overworked decoration for supposed function. Some overpriced decorator had probably once walked in and said, “Oh, yes, yellows and greens are soothing colours. Your Kinetics will feel a lot more at ease if you paint the room in yellow and green.”

And as a result, the room was a nauseating mix of off green and sickly yellow. But to be fair, perhaps nothing on earth could help an anxious Kinetic waiting for an Empath, and their own emotions were tainting the room, colouring the very air itself.

Aaron waited patiently in the large room, ignoring the other Kinetic lounging on the couches. Carefully and methodically, he ran through the calming exercises he taught himself years ago. He had registered with T&E when required and had attended a day seminar that his Class 5 status required and that had been the last time he’d walked into a T&E building.

He’d been waiting for nearly 30 minutes, but he figured this was more due to Andrew’s tactics, dragging his heels as it were. Catching himself from tapping the thick manila folder against his legs, Hotchner contemplated calling Special Agent Gibbs again, their all too brief conversation very enlightening but hardly reassuring.

Finally, Andrews arrived, that damn smile firmly in place, and Aaron forced himself not to react to the tangible presence of the Empath following him. “Ah, there you are. I thought you’d be in a connection privacy room.”

Shaking his head, keeping his eyes firmly on Andrews, ignoring the sensation of the hairs on his arms standing on end, Hotchner said calmly, “As I said before, I do not need Mr Winchester for ... that. His knowledge and experience in the Sorenson case is the only reason I am here. Is he ready to leave?”

Andrews paused, glancing back at Winchester who looked... out of it, and reflexively Aaron looked as well and felt a very real ripple of need run through him, which he firmly squashed and shoved away. “I don’t know, Agent Hotchner. It’s not really protocol for us to allow unconnected ‘Paths out on their own ... you probably should...”

“Not so,” Aaron interjected smoothly, grateful he’d double checked the regulations himself before arriving. The temptation was all too real and if it became a requirement... But it wasn’t and Aaron continued, “As a class 5 and a non working kinetic I do not need the occasional connection and I need Winchester’s brain and abilities uninterrupted by the continued ebb and flow of breaking a connection.”

“Well...” Andrews dithered and perhaps it was the proximity of a powerful Empath, but Hotchner felt an undercurrent of deception and manipulation from Andrews. And a small part of him, the very controlled and locked down part whispered softly about the advantages of having a full time Empath on the BAU payroll, on being able to read suspect’s emotions and intentions. Ignoring that voice, Aaron said firmly, “Agent Andrews, I know you are well aware of my urgency in this matter so let me reassure you one last time, I do not require a connection with an Empath, and I must leave for the crime scene immediately.”

At that Andrews’s smile turned stiff and formal, but the undercurrent of emotion changed from deception to spite and the T&E Agent said brightly, “Oh, it’s not you I am worried about, Agent Hotchner. Dean here is ... well... serving out a contracted sentence to T&E and without a connection, there is a very real chance that he will try to run.”

Immensely relieved that he’d taken the time to research Dean Winchester and double check the story Gibbs had told him, Aaron buttoned down his own emotions and replied, “I may be relatively inexperienced in dealing with Empaths, Agent Andrews, but I know enough that you’ve blown open Winchester’s connection, his empathic field, and any Kinetic and I do mean even a class 7 would be able to find him right now.”

Andrew’s covered his surprise well and smiled brightly as if he’d always been in complete agreement and said, “Great. Then, you’ll just remember to keep it open, use the taser provided in his bag and everyone’ll be happy then.”

“Agent Andrews, Dean Winchester will be surrounded by an entire team of experience field agents whose sole purpose is tracking down suspects. As I said before, I need him to function as a ... person, not a battery. So, no. I will not keep the connection open, but between my team and my ... abilities, we will ensure his safe return.” Hotchner carefully studied Andrew’s expression, hating himself just a little that he was already bouncing off Winchester’s open field to feel the emotions around him.

Perhaps figuring out what Hotchner was doing, Andrews shut down his emotions, and he’d have to be good at that being surrounded by Empaths, and he sighed dramatically, “Well, be it upon your head, Hotchner. Just sign the release forms and you can get back to your urgent case.” Well, perhaps not so practiced afterall, as Hotch felt his sarcasm more than heard it. Or perhaps he was meant to.

Papers signed, exorbitant fee authorised and Winchester was his. Finally, now out of necessity, Aaron looked over at the Empath, his Empath, and said, “Let’s hit the road, Winchester.”

Winchester made no move, and Andrews sighed, “You’ll have to ...”

“Touch him?” Aaron interjected, “No, I really don’t. Come on.”

And luckily, Winchester shot Andrews an unreadable look and did just that. Aaron picked up the grey duffle, and headed towards the exit, hyper aware of the thrumming presence behind him, and made mental plans to stick Winchester in the back seat. 

 

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On Route to Crime Scene - Now

There was a thesaurus full of synonyms that could be applied to Dean, who was currently a lightning rod of emotions next to him in the car. The prep had obviously been deeper and more extensive this time, and Hotchner couldn’t help wondering if Andrews had done it on purpose.

Dean himself looked ... wrung out. Thinner, paler. The difference a month had made was shocking. If he was trying to reign in his empathic field, the effect was minimal. He was a veritable live wire of emotion and Aaron physically had to unclench his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and calm down. Hopefully, hopefully, they could find the unsub quickly – and resolve this damn mystery of why yet another murder had occurred, using the same MO.

The murder scene was in another alley, an out of the way space where an opportunistic, disorganized killer could attack. The issue, as before, was time and timing. How could the unsub actually pull off the detailed and extensive mutilation in a venue where there was a real danger of being disturbed – caught? Mitch Koravi had killed three men over three nights in quiet but hardly isolated alleys. It had been pure luck, chance, that Dean had been able to track him from the last crime scene. Hopefully he would be able to do so again – today. Only though, if this unsub was following Koravi’s exact pattern, which spoke to far more concerning underlying issues – like why and how someone, a third someone, was following the exact same modus operandi.

“Are you... are you going to be able to talk? We need to act fast and if you can pick up the trail...”

Dean didn’t look up, remained slumped against the window but sighed and grated out with difficulty, “Go to hell.”

Hotch kept a steady eye on the road and the early morning traffic and tried to sound less pissed off and more... reasonable, “I get that you’re angry and I know that its mostly because I didn’t believe you, didn’t listen before. But another man has died and now... I need your help, again.”

Dean still didn’t meet his gaze and whispered, “You gonna trust me this time?”

It was peculiar, this feeling of anger mingled with compassion. Dean Winchester was a man forced to make amends, serve out a sentence in less than pleasant circumstances and apparently felt things so very deeply, judging by the roiling emotions that leaked out from him. Rossi had been sceptical, probably still was, that the emotions were genuine and weren’t an attempt to manipulate them all, but Hotch was certain, certain that his abilities would safeguard him, confirm the genuine nature of Dean’s leaks. How did one reconcile the picture of a hardened manipulative sociopath with the tender feelings of a man lost and abused in a dehumanising system? What did you believe, the cold hard facts or your instincts?

Checking the rear view mirror and the driver’s side mirror, Hotch indicated to turn and said as calmly as he could, turning the wheel slowly, “Are you going to stop lying to me?”

The silence from the other side of the car was pronounced and Aaron wondered what tack Dean would try, admit or deny. Either would be telling and would begin to cement either opinion of him – manipulative or genuine. “Sometimes the truth ... only muddies the waters.”

Sucking on his lip, Hotch mused quietly trying to think of a non-clichéd way to say this and then said, “Not really, in my experience. Might be harder to admit, but usually, always, the truth – clarifies the situation.”

“Not in my experience.”

Ah. Well judgement would have to be reserved in that case, because they had arrived. The red and blue lights of the District police were still flashing, and there was an array of crime scene tech vans and FBI cars. “Well, whatever your past experience, Dean, you need to tell me the truth, because right now – your involvement in a case where we catch a suspect and then weeks later another unsub strikes using the same MO, is beginning to look damn suspicious. And I won’t be the only one thinking that.”

Hotchner opened his door and got out stiffly, not really ready to face the grisly scene he knew was waiting for them. Winchester was slow to follow, a ripple of unease and anger emanating from him, which he was slow to curtail. “Come on.”

Morgan and Rossi were already on scene, Reid and Prentiss talking to a few police officers. Derek looked up and waved him over, Rossi’s expression ... uneasy. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one feeling guilty.

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Crime Scene - Now

 

“Well, I didn’t expect to be seeing this again so soon ... ever in fact.” Derek pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and stood next to Rossi, who was chewing on the end of his glasses. Rossi grunted in reply, fixed on the spread-eagled remains before them.

Derek taped the crime scene tape and it bounced limply, one end wrapped around a street pole , the other end tied to a squad car’s door handle. “They clear the scene yet?”

“Just about. JJ is making sure they send all the evidence to our lab and not the PD’s,” Rossi replied, edging closer to the victim’s corpse but remaining behind the tape.

“We got a name yet?”

Rossi nodded, still not looking Derek, “James Morrison. Investment banker. His wallet and ID are still over there.” Derek glanced over, having already noted the neat pile of personal effects, running shirt, wallet, watch, driver’s licence on display. Rossi continued, “Single, successful and cut down in his prime.”

Morgan ‘hmmmed’ absently, crouching down to get a closer look at bloody rib, a yellow number 43 next to it. The still hovering CSI nodded and Derek ducked under the tape, stepping carefully in his plastic-covered shoes towards the victim. The plastic booties crinkled and cracked as he stepped forward but Derek was careful to follow the ‘cleared’ path, Rossi following close behind.

James Morrison, or rather what was left of him, was a mess of blood and bone.

“Spine is intact.”

“Like before,” Derek murmured.

David sighed, “Certainly seems consistent,” finally meeting Morgan’s gaze, before dropping to his haunches and studying the splayed bones and skins at his feet. Squinting against the sun, Derek sighed in sympathy, took of his glasses and rubbed his hand over his smooth head.

“Disorganized, opportunistic, rage fuelled violence, sadistic,” Rossi listed off, flicking an errant piece of paper off his shoe, sounding very tired.

Morgan picked up the thread, and said, “Pierced lips, eyes gouged out, no visible signs of restraint, flailed alive, death occurring almost immediately after the first cuts.”

“The final acts, the mutilation and dismemberment more important to him that the actual act of killing the victim,” Rossi muttered, slowly standing.

“Unless it’s a copy cat, which means there could be .... different stressors, perhaps...” Derek offered kindly, giving Rossi and by extension Reid an out, an extension of sympathy. Rossi however smoothly, firmly interrupted with, “For a copy cat to occur so soon, so quickly after Koravi – either they were his partner from the beginning or they work in law enforcement – in order to have access to so much ... detail.” Smiling wanly, Rossi shrugged, “I appreciate the effort, Derek. But ... Winchester did warn us. Warned Hotch.”

Nodding, Derek folded his sunglasses and hooked them over the collar of his shirt, freeing both hands and replied, “A month is pretty damn fast. Either a partner who needed time to build up the courage ... the need to continue on their own. Or a borderline personality working in law enforcement. None of this detail was ever in the newspaper, JJ made sure of that.”

Rossi rubbed his eyes with one hand, fighting a yawn and pushed back his exhaustion and embarrassment and said, “What did Winchester say about the restraints?”

A softer voice supplied, verbatim, “It happened so fast, the guy died before he needed to be tied down.”

Derek turned around to see Reid and Prentiss picking their over way, Emily grimacing at the grisly scene. Smiling a little, he said, “Anything interesting from the interviews?”

Emily shook her head, “911 call came in when someone spotted the blood and then the body, called the cops. Didn’t see anything or anyone. But there is still a lot of awareness after the last murders, people paying attention.”

“Coroner said he probably died late last night, and that he is waiting for us to get our collective asses into gear so he can bag the body.” Reid sounded a little subdued, his limp more noticeable, but he still ‘air quoted’ the last part, no doubt passing along the Coroner’s exact words.

Spencer shared a look with Rossi, who shrugged, both of them feeling a little off kilter with this one. None the less, Reid turned to Derek and said clearly, “I never really understood the whole ‘it happened so fast’ idea. The victims are practically stripped naked and despite the coroner reports could not, should not, have died so quickly from the first cuts, no matter how deep or precise.”

Emily pointed at the body, saying, “Toxicology results before were clear of any type of paralytic, poison, or opiate. I know we cannot assume the same here, but if this is the same as before ...”

“It is,” Morgan confirmed, deliberating not looking at Rossi and Reid.

Rossi however interjected with, “Let’s not make assumptions, Morgan. Even if the... it appears the cases are linked, we should still treat this murder scene as if it were fresh – check and then double check everything.”

“I agree,” Reid said softly, wincing a little as he straightened, righting his stance.

“As do I,” Derek said, “But time is of the essence and if we need to make a leap in order to save a life...” Rossi and Reid were nodding.

Prentiss said quietly, “So, what... we’re waiting for our empathic bloodhound to arrive and what ... hope for the best, hope he can pick something up again?”

“And I will say again, that is risky. The first time we relied too much on chance, the unsub, Koravi, could have easily eluded us. And now? We are going to assume the new unsub is not going to learn from the mistakes of his... predecessor? We relied too much on Winchester last time, and it is dangerous relying on his abilities again – we must profile this like a normal case.” Rossi was glaring at the gory remains as he spoke and Reid was nodding. Morgan sighed deeply. He had a valid point – very valid.

Not done, Rossi continued, looking at Prentiss and Morgan in turn, “We lucked out last time, got swept up in the novelty of having a new way of tracking an unsub and sure, it paid off. But maybe because we didn’t do a proper job, didn’t get the right profile... this is what happened.” He didn’t point but the remains of James Morrison spoke volumes none the less. 

Emily stood with her hands on her hips and added, “I don’t think we should ignore the value .. the input that Winchester brings though. Yes, do a complete profile and maybe, I don’t know, include the parameters an Empath and Kinetic add to the situation.”

At this both Rossi and Reid nodded, and Reid said, “I suppose if we treat the information provided with the same validity as anything Garcia finds and perhaps, yes, it will assist in the profiling. Right now, we are shooting in the dark about the unsub. Unsubs actually. Neither Sorenson or Koravi fit any true profile, their behaviour consistent but the circumstances and stressors different.”

“Hotch should meet us here with Winchester, so I guess we just ... hang around,” Derek said, nodding at JJ who was walking over towards them. And fortunately, there was Hotchner pulling in, black town car distinctive amidst all the vans. “Or not, looks like they’re here.”

Rossi, Reid and Prentiss followed Morgan back towards the crime scene tape, all following in the other’s footsteps and as Derek ducked under the tape, Hotch and JJ arrived. And as Winchester approached, Morgan felt the familiar crackle of energy, the soft hum of ‘touch me.’

All eyes turned to Aaron, who nodded briefly at Rossi and Reid before saying, “I cannot stress enough just how much scrutiny we are under here. A lot of people, including the DA and Chief Strauss believed the situation to be resolved and now ... we have another murder.”

Everyone nodded and Rossi almost opened his mouth to say something but Hotch pressed on. “I know that last time it felt rushed, we acted more on instinct than anything else, and while time continues to be of essence, we need a complete, accurate profile as well any advantage Winchester can give us.”

“On that basis, Aaron, we are on the same page.” 

Everyone nodded, and then everyone looked at Winchester, who was studying the crime scene. He was keeping his distance, a good couple of feet from Hotch and Aaron made no move towards Dean as he said, “Picking up anything?”

Face fixed, mouth hard and grim, Winchester said gruffly, “Same as before.”

Unable to keep the scorn from his voice, Rossi asked, “What is that, exactly?”

Winchester didn’t even look over at them, just stepped under the crime scene tape and walked towards the corpse. “Anger, hate ... revenge. Wanted him dead ...bloody and painful.”

“Why? If that’s discernable...?” Reid mumbled, fidgeting a little.

“Betrayal.”

Rossi sighed, “Well the violence and mutilation supports the anger and hate. The unusual execution though... Reid?”

“As I said, er, last time, the style of execution is consistent with that of Middle Eastern cultures, the Assyrian and Babylonian treatment of defeated rulers... I would have to consult some references but I haven’t read about this manner of ... mutilation being used on traitors.”

“Who’s to say our unsub knows that. Might just have read a few wikipedia entries, liked the idea and whamo...” Derek mused, half heartedly.

Aware that Derek was not being serious Reid responded none the less, “Choosing to do this ... something this graphic and precise, it must mean something to him, them ....”

“Victimology hasn’t changed,” Emily added.

“Young, white, successful men. An element of jealousy?” Rossi said, watching Winchester kneel near the corpse, study it dispassionately.

“JJ, please have all of the autopsy reports, as well as Koravi’s personal effects and notes set up for us,” Hotch asked, his attention more on Dean than her. JJ nodded, “Already done, sir. Can I let the coroner come up and collect the body?”

They all turned to watch Winchester then, who was still crouched over the body, peering at the face, the solid brass ring through the lips, the sightless, gaping holes where the eyes once were. Derek noted Rossi’s disapproving frown, but his friend didn’t say anything.

“Is there a trail?” Hotch called out. Slowly, quietly, Winchester stood and said, “Yeah, faint.”

Winchester’s shoulders looked tense, and he didn’t turn around, waiting for a response. At Hotch’s nod and soft, “Go ahead,” he trooped off, heading away from them. Hotch quickly followed and Rossi shared a knowing look with Derek, before they all did the same, a ragged trail of FBI agents picking their way through the narrow alley, ducking under the tape, heading into the main street.

As usual with a crime scene, there was a small crowd of onlookers, and Winchester paused at the edge of the police line, studying the crowd. Derek watched as well, wondering if this unsub was going to be as idiotic and consistent as Koravi.

The minute twitch of muscles was barely visible, but the spike of emotion, the scent of a hunt was very real and Dean took off, barrelling past two police offers and Derek was immediately on his heels, a shout half articulated. “Hey!” There was movement in the crowd, as someone also took off, running with purpose.

Hotch, Rossi and Prentiss were close behind, and Derek had the uneasy sensation of ... déjà vu.

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Then – Wrap up of Koravi Case

“Mistress of Information and Edification. How may I direct your call?”

“Hey Garcia.”

“Ah, it is the turn of the young padawan to test the Might Mistress... speak on Obi Reidwan.”

Reid couldn’t help the smile and knew Garcia would hear it in his voice, “We need everything you can get on a Mitch Koravi, I’m texting you his social.”

“On it, cupcake. You guys wrapped this up pretty quick, I take it the guy Morgan shot was Mitch Koravi..... what’s he like?”

Figuring she wasn’t asking about the unsub, but not 100% certain, Reid asked, “Who, the Empath?”

“No, Santa Claus! Of course the Empath... he looks hot.”

Reid shrugged, pressing his phone against his shoulder, not really wanting to get into it with Garcia. “He’s ok. Not exactly what you’d expect but ....”

“And Hotchner... is it weird, is he different?”

At this Reid happily replied, “No, no, Hotch is the same – same old Hotch. I get the impression he’s a little embarrassed.”

“As he should be, hiding something like this from us... me!”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly...”

“Ding! Stick a fork in me, I am done.”

Eyebrows beetling together, Reid exclaimed, “That was quick.”

“Not hard to find. Regular joe with regular stuff. Kinda Joe Boring actually. It’s on its way to your phone.”

Reid nodded, already noting the incoming emails. “Thanks, Garcia. I...”

“Oh, hey didn’t you apply to T&E once, Spence?”

The question caught him off guard, but of course Penelope Garcia would know something like that and Reid tried to project as much ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ as possible into his voice. “Yeah...”

Garcia however had not heard and was still talking, “In fact, you applied a few... five times?”

It was easy to recall the disappointment, the realisation that as special as he was, he wasn’t ‘that’ special. His mother hadn’t been all that keen for him to test, but the idea of being able to figure her out, maybe... fix her had had so much appeal. “Garcia, I ...”

“Wow, you tested off the charts for everything else, like I figured but why keep going to T&E it’s not like they ...” His silence eventually sunk in and her voice grew quiet. “I’m being rude and prying and using my powers for evil, aren’t I?”

“Just a little.”

“Backing off, backing right off. Sorry, so so sorry.”

“Chat to you later, Garcia.”

“Bye. Sorry...”

Reid ended the call and pulled up the information on Koravi. It had stung, the rejection of such an obvious mental ability, when he was so good at everything else involving the brain. In the end however, he’d been glad that he hadn’t tested positive as either Kinetic or Empath – being a profiler was far more rewarding.

 

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\- It was accidental, the discovery that an electric current could severe an Empathic and Kinetic connection. The pair had been brought in unconscious but while the medical team were working on Joe, the Empath, they all reported feeling a distinctly odd sensation of pain from Joe, like he was projecting. And the nurses had to keep chasing unpaired Kinetics out of his recovery room. Dr Kingston made the connection in the end, when Joe woke up and promptly projected his very urgent need to urinate to the immediate area resulting in several long lines for the restrooms. The true impact however for T&E would only be realised in the months to come.

extract from “The Telekinetic Phenomenon” by Maxwell Kimball, circa 1987

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	3. Supply and Demand: Repeat Business Part 3/5 (SPN/Criminal Minds AU Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Criminal Minds/SPN Crossover AU. Mitch Koravi was dead, to begin with. But when a man is killed using his exact MO, the BAU have to eat humble pie and bring back the Empath told them their case was not closed, Dean Winchester

Chapter 3

_ ‘There is only a small, contradictory note in an old Caliph’s personal record that confirms the biblical account. It notes that ‘Adremeloch and Shazer died a traitor’s death in the high mountains.’ The inconsistent use of the name Armenia may be as a result of faulty translation or well intentioned ‘fixing’ but the Caliph’s record was already several years after the events and could be seen as reliable as the account of Atlantis.  _

_ None the less, the fate of the sons aside the first real, however obscure, reference to the four daggers is in the history of a young Persian prince who makes mention of them, or rather mentions his teacher’s reference of the daggers and the rumour that a distant uncle had procured them. The Prince does not confirm if this was his uncle or the teacher’s and since the prince’s identity itself is uncertain... but none the less... the phrase ‘senacherib’s daggers’ is very clear. _

_ Clarke notes that there are several notations in inventories of households and treasuries for the next several centuries that specifically note: ‘Daggers of Senacherib’ but judging by the conflicting dates and several overlapping time frames, there appears to have been forgeries. Huglier even supposes that the legend around the supposed ‘curse’ only increased the likelihood of forgeries. If the dagger in the Jeffersonian is in fact one of the fabled Senacherib daggers, then where are its fellows and how would I go about verifying it? The note in the catalogue is simply ‘circa 800 BE, Assyrian. Nineveh?’ Hardly conclusive, but Samuels swears it could be it. Where the other three are, who knows. Have an appointment at the Jeffersonian for tomorrow. Samuels will meet me at the lab.’ _

_ Notes on Thesis – Mitch Koravi.  _

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The unsub took off like a shot, pushing through and past the crowd, disappearing into the masses of early morning pedestrians on their way to work. Both Derek and Dean were after him immediately, dodging past startled passerbys, Hotchner and Emily trailing them, trying to weave through. 

Rossi stopped really not prepared to chase down a suspect on foot, nodded at Reid and they ran over to Hotch’s town car, the nearest BAU vehicle. A few of the officers and agents on scene were standing around a little confused and Rossi yelled at them, “Call it in, agents pursuing a suspect on foot.”

Derek meanwhile was trying to get a good look at the unsub, who was moving pretty damn fast, ducking around people, dirty white shirt blending into the crowd. Naturally, people were stopping to look at the fuss, the nearby crime scene, the shouts and exclamations and Derek yelled over the top of the crowd as loud as he could, “FBI! Move!” 

Dean was still in the lead much to Derek’s annoyance, the guy threading his way through the crowds much faster and Derek had to push himself to keep up. Twisting and turning, too often crashing into people who had stepped out of Dean’s way, Morgan growled, trying not to shove too forcibly, but needing to get through. Not really wanting to risk the time to look, Derek did so nonetheless and saw Prentiss and Hotchner not too far behind, but dealing with even more irate people, who were getting knocked into for the 3rd and 4th time. 

The unsub remained a fleeting figure, ducking and dodging ahead of them, and Winchester was actually gaining on him, leaving Derek behind. There was a sudden break in the crowd and Morgan used that to his advantage speeding up to catch Dean, muscles burning as he did so. Intent on closing the distance, he just about ran into the back of Winchester when he stopped suddenly, and cursed.

“Shit, where the hell did he go?” 

“What?” Derek shouted, straining to see over the crowd, “You lost him?”

Anxious seconds ticked by as they both scanned the crowd and they could both hear the sounds of Hotchner and Prentiss coming up behind them, feet slapping on the pavement, calls of ‘FBI!’ Derek felt a charge build in the air between them and Dean suddenly yelled, “Got him, there!”

Looking himself and spotting the white shirt rounding a corner, Derek was ready for the burst of speed this time and was close on Winchester’s heels, following in his wake. The charged _feel_ around Dean did not diminish and it felt like there was a tangible force around him and even as he ran, boots pounding into the ground, Derek noticed that people were stepping out of their way before they actually reached them. 

No longer caught in the aftermath of confused people brushed aside by an empathic forcefield of ‘get of the way’, Derek was now able to keep up with ease, watching more where the unsub was running than they were, trusting Dean to clear the road. 

“He’s heading towards the train station!” Derek shouted, noting the signs and increase in people as commuters suddenly thronged the street. 

Winchester gave no indication that he heard but he sped up and Derek felt his own muscles burning in response, matching the pace, chest tight with adrenalin. The unsub darted into a side tunnel that fed into the main building of the station and seconds later Winchester was there and Derek blinked against the sudden drop in light and automatically slowed down, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He heard Hotch yell, “Morgan!” and shouted back, hoping they heard him, “In here!” 

The press of people was even greater now and he lost Dean in the crowd, slowing down even more without the emphatic barrier clearing the way. “FBI! Move, move!”

The crowd parted reluctantly, a lot of frowns and exclamations and then Derek was through, into the main body of the station and he looked around, and was surprised to see Hotchner and Prentiss arriving at the main entrance. They both pointed up to the left and there was Winchester taking the stairs to the second floor two at the time. The unsub however was out of sight, lost in the press of commuters. 

“Shit.” Morgan only just beat Hotch and Emily to the staircase and pushed his legs to take the stairs two at a time, feeling his thighs pull with the motion but dug into reserves well maintained for just this. Hotch and Emily were red faced and breathing heavily behind him, but keeping up. At the top of the stairs, he slowed as no one not Winchester or unsub were in sight but Hotchner barrelled past him, unerringly turning left and racing down the corridor, heading towards a door marked ‘Exit’. 

Side by side with Emily, he shot her a grim smile and she returned it and waved her cell at him. “Rossi’s outside with the PD, trying to cordon off the area. They should have all exits covered by now.”

Hotch shouldered open a fire exit, a beam of light blinding them momentarily, Hotch a brief silhouette against the square of light before disappearing. Catching the door before it closed completely, Derek shoved it open and took a moment to draw his weapon, Emily mirroring him. 

The roof area was relatively small and flat, the occasional box of an air conditioning unit scattered around. But there was nowhere to hide, really and Winchester had the unsub cornered, trapped at the edge of the roof, a two storey drop below.

Scanning the immediate area, they slowed and walked towards Hotch who had his weapon drawn as well. As they got close Derek felt his skin tighten and there was a hint of ozone in the air and he figured Winchester was using his abilities to pen the guy in. Emily was rapid fire relaying the details to Rossi who was no doubt on the street below.

The unsub was smiling, barely looked worried at all and if that didn’t make Derek nervous, nothing did. Scanning the immediate area again, he wondered if this was some sort of trap. 

Aaron was trying to catch his breath, uncomfortably discomforted by the run and just how unfit he was afterall. Winchester barely looked out of breath, but his grey jump suit was already darker with sweat and his face was drenched with the effort of holding up a physical kinetic barrier behind the unsub. The buzz of adrenalin from him was ... heady, to say the least. 

It was imperative that they bring the guy in alive, they needed answers on just how and why he was mimicking Korvai and Sorenson, so Aaron projected as much ‘calm’ as he could and said firmly, “Your options are limited, sir. Step down and let’s talk.”

The unsub’s creepy smile didn’t waver, nor did his attention which was fixed on Hotch. It was hardly the most disturbing stare that had been directed at him over the years, but it reminded him a little too much of Foyet. 

Although not connected, Hotch could _feel_ the barrier behind the unsub, and knew it was weakening, the unsub actually leaning against it, resting his weight on it. “Step down, now.” Dean’s hands were shaking, both held out like he was physically holding up the barrier, his empathic abilities not really cut for this sort of thing.

 The unsub, a middle aged man with a full head of light blond hair smiled widely, and deliberately stepped back, off the ledge. He hung for several seconds, his entire weight suspended by Dean’s empathic kinesis and even as Hotch opened his mouth to shout, ‘No,’ he felt Winchester _reach_ out to him and _demand_ a kinetic boost. Instinctively, automatically and without real thought, Hotchner rebuffed the plea, slammed down his barriers and in that moment, the unsub dropped out of sight. 

 “No!” Derek echoed behind him and Aaron _felt_ Winchester’s disappointment briefly before the empathic field collapsed and Dean slumped forward, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath, pale and shaking.

Stunned silence fell over them, Emily’s mouth hanging open, the tinny voice of Rossi distinct from the phone in her hand. Belatedly, Prentiss put the instrument to her ear and nodded, “Have you ... yeah... yeah...” She looked up from the phone and said bitterly, “He’s dead. Heart’s stopped completely, but they’re trying to revive him.”

It wasn’t that much of a drop, but would be enough, and Hotch felt a surge of guilt and anger from Dean, that mirrored his own completely. A stiff morning breeze picked up an errant piece of paper and blew it across the roof, all four of them stunned into immobility. 

In an explosion of frustration and anger Morgan kicked a stray beer can, sending it clattering across the roof and Aaron tried to quash down the guilt and get moving – do something. There was still a plethora of unanswered questions and if it turned out this suspect had no link, evidentiary or otherwise, to the victim, they were going to be in world of trouble. 

Pulling out his own cell, noting the two missed calls, and wondering if he should bother phoning Chief Strauss just yet, Hotch felt the breeze turn cold, a run of goosebumps pimpling his arms. On his haunches, trying to catch his breath, Dean looked up as well, his forehead creased in concern. Looking around, wondering what had peaked Winchester’s attention, a ripple of anxiety in the rush of adrenalin from Dean, Hotch spotted the glint of metal at the base of the roof ledge.

Suddenly compelled with curiosity, he stumbled forward, the glint of metal drawing him in like a magpie. He _heard_ the sound of a rising wind, as if a storm was picking up and there in a pile of trash was a rusty looking blade. The dull roar of the wind grew to a crescendo and without thinking about it, barely aware of Winchester’s shout he knelt, picked it up and the world exploded into white.

Half listening to Emily direct the crime scene techs to the roof, Derek spun around at Winchester’s shout and he saw Hotch standing near the edge, holding a knife, an old looking dagger type .... thing. What in the hell was Hotch doing tampering with evidence, doing the unthinkable? He opened his mouth to call out, and then Hotch turned around. 

Dean was already moving towards him, stumbling a little as his knees wobbled but when Hotch looked up, it was like looking at someone else, his face was loose and smiling, an evil grin twisting his lips.

“Drop it, Hotchner, now!” Dean shouted, and Derek felt a weak _shove_ at Hotch, which barely ruffled his suit jacket. Confused and instantly uncomfortable with the way Hotch was looking at him, so very reminiscent of the way the unsub had, Derek instinctively raised his gun. 

A dull clap of kinetic detonation sent Winchester flying back, into Emily, who had only just realised what was going on. Snapping his weapon up now, Derek yelled, “Stop, Hotch. What the hell....”

The kinetic wave that hit him was solid like a brick and his gun went flying out of his hand. Hotch, that awful smile still on his face, stepped forward, raising the blade and Winchester charged, swinging a metal pole.

Hotch caught it one handed, then dropped it like it burned and took off, heading back into the station. Without really thinking about it, Derek staggered to his feet and stumbled after Winchester, yelling at Emily who was still getting to her own feet. “Call Rossi!”

What in the hell was going on?

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When Aaron opened his eyes, the light was bright and he could feel the sun on his face. The wind was dry and hot, the breath of the desert. Squinting, feeling the lines on his face crease and crackle, he looked out at the vast expanse of his empire.

He could still taste the bitter pangs of defeat, the rise of bile at the thought, the very idea that something so puny and insignificant had routed his army. Not even the sight of Nineveh stretching out before him could allay the bitter reality that his long list of victories were diminished, ridiculed by this defeat.

Hotchner drew his short, beautifully carved blade, and studied its perfect balance and imagery. Esar-haddon had given him this in celebration of his victory over the Hittites. Now, now, he could only think of the walls of Jerusalem. Those pitiful, insignificant walls which had defied him.

The whisper of movement was his only warning, and Aaron turned just in time to see his son, Adrammelech lunge forward, a short blade already streaking towards his heart. He blocked that blow, long experience and training in the dusty training grounds serving him well, no matter how many years it had been since his youth. 

It had also been many years since he’d felt the bite of a blade, but there was no mistake the sharp pain at his side. Turning, keeping one eye on his treacherous son, Aaron turned in time to see and feel Sharezer sink another blade into his kidneys. Adrammelech used his distraction to plunge a third, thirsty dagger straight into his lung, blade angled up and accurate and everything grew grey and black and then Aaron was looking up at his sons, the jewels on their sandals covered in dust. Adrammalech knelt and raised his hand to sink a fourth blade, straight into his father’s heart and Aaron felt the rise of anger, of hate. The blade was plain, dull even, a simple work blade, hardly befitting his sons, let alone a king, an Emperor.

He thrust out, caught his son’s arm and twisted it in an iron grip, yelling, “Traitor! Son of a misbegotten whore! Thrice cursed ....”

Adrammalech’s face paled, as did Sharezer’s and they both backed off, stumbling on those pretty jewelled feet. Aaron yelled again, “I will yoke and blind you! Spilt you from ass to throat, you ungrateful, murderous bastards!”

Adrammalech and Sharezer ran as if their lives depended on it, which it did and as Aaron stood he felt different, stronger, freer. For a split second he turned, wondering what lay at his feet and saw a bloody, dying old man, face lined with regret and tears and he wondered. The distant, panicked foot falls of his sons though were already echoing through the temple and Aaron gave the dying old man no further thought and ran after his treacherous sons. 

There was a flash and he was no longer the hunter, but the pursued, young traitors, usurpers hot on his heels, thirsting for his blood, his throne. Come, come, little sons, a prize awaits you. Come. Hotch white knuckled the blade in his hand, the only one that did not sink and fall and taste his blood. It would taste royal blood soon. Come, little sons. Run. 

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_ “So Sennacherib king of Assyria departed, and went and returned, and dwelt in Nineveh.  
And it came to pass, as he was worshipping in the house of Nisroch his god, that Adrammelech and Sharezer his sons smote him with the sword; and they escaped into the land of Armenia; and Esar-haddon his son reigned in his stead.” _

_ Isaiah 37:37-38 _

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- _ An open Empath is like a fire. No, no, like an electric socket and you’re charging your cellphone. Plug in, charge up and you’re good to go for a few weeks. I guess working for T&E isn’t too bad, there are a lot of perks, you know. The money is good, the benefits are amazing and they really look after your family. But the biggest and best perk – regular access to an Empath. There is nothing on earth quite like tapping into an Empathic field, man. Nothing. And the really strong Empaths... they can like charge, or run two or three Kinetics at a time. I once worked on a bodyguard detail for a billionaire, sorry confidentiality, can’t tell you who, and it was mind blowing being jacked into an Empath with two other Kinetics. The things we could do ... dude, totally wicked! _

_ Extract of Kinetic Recruitment Video, interview of Keith Taylor, class 3 Kinetic. _

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	4. Supply and Demand: Repeat Business Part 4/5 (SPN/Criminal Minds AU Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Criminal Minds/SPN Crossover AU. Mitch Koravi was dead, to begin with. But when a man is killed using his exact MO, the BAU have to eat humble pie and bring back the Empath told them their case was not closed, Dean Winchester

  


Supply and Demand: Repeat Business Part 4/5 (SPN/Criminal Minds AU Crossover)

Author: Tari_Roo

Rating: PG13 (Gen)

Fandom: SPN/Criminal Minds

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit from nothing. Although if I had my way Dean would grow his hair longer and Sam would cut his. Creative licence on historical accuracy and hand waving over actual facts. It’s an AU after all. That is all.

Summary: Criminal Minds/SPN Crossover AU. Mitch Koravi was dead, to begin with. But when a man is killed using his exact MO, the BAU have to eat humble pie and bring back the Empath told them their case was not closed, Dean Winchester 

Spoilers: set somewhere during Season 5 of Criminal Minds, post ep 100 and AU for SPN (all seasons).

Chapter 4

Third crime scene – one Month ago

_ Reid, silent so far, gaze fixed on the still active crime scene said quietly, “There were several cultures in the Ancient Middle East, but notably the Assyrians, which mutilated and humiliated the rulers of conquered nations. They would pierce the lips or mouth of a defeated king, and attach a rope or chain to that ring, to lead him like an animal. They would also kill the children, notably the sons of the King before his eyes and if particularly vindictive, then put out his eyes so that the last thing he saw was the complete and utter defeat of his kingdom, line and throne.” _

_ Reid was still staring that the horrific remains as he spoke, and Derek couldn’t help look himself, the blood spatter and gore wide spread. _

_ “And the ... ah... dismemberment?” he asked. _

_ “Flailing.” Everyone looked up at Emily, who had a file with NCIS stamped across it open, and she sighed, reading aloud, “Victim was flailed alive, direction of blade indeterminate, speculation from neck down. Skin and muscle removed pari-mortem, while rib cage, organs and inner musculature removed post-mortem. Blade length, size and diameter indeterminate.” _

_ She looked up at them, and said, “This is the NCIS corner’s preliminary report and it’s pretty rudimentary. Matches the PD Coroner’s prelim report on Samuels, while yesterday’s victim is still being processed. Ah, Master Sergeant Matthews’ body was handed over to ... the NID? Who the hell are they?” _

_ Rossi shrugged, asking for the report which Prentiss handed over, “I’m guessing yet another mysterious branch of our government. But the report, as vague as it is, is still consistent with our current murders. Did they have any suspects?” _

_ At this JJ sighed and said, “Worse. They made an arrest, got a full confession and Sorenson is currently in federal prison.” _

_ “Oh.” _

_ Reid was bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, hmmming softly, “Four similar murders, months apart, one arrest. Either we have a miscarriage of justice or a partnership.” _

_ “Doesn’t really match the profile – someone this out of control isn’t thinking clearly enough to run and wait a month, let alone maintain a partnership with another sociopath. Copy cat?” Rossi mused, flipping through the reports.  _

_ “Too soon for a copy cat who wasn’t involved, a sub partner or ...” Derek trailed off and then sighed, looking around the crime scene. The late morning sunlight was bright, the sun already hot overhead. There was a lot of work to be done but Derek looked at his team, who looked back and he said, “Alright fine, I’ll bring it up. Hotch is a damn Telekinetic? Did you know?” _

_ Reid was shaking his head furiously, while Emily and JJ said no in unison. Rossi shrugged, “Not something he wanted bandied about. I don’t...” _

_ “So you did know? And what... it’s neither here nor there that our boss, our SAC is a Telekinetic... and, what? Non-practicing? Lapsed?” Derek ignored the looks from Rossi and Prentiss, while Reid jumped in with, “Guess so, as he has never demonstrated the slightest affinity or ability, or...” _

_ “Hold it, hold it.” Reid stopped, and they looked at Rossi, expectantly. “Yes, Hotch hid this from us, but it was his prerogative to do so, his right. And yes, I know it’s a huge thing to hide,” Rossi forestalled Morgan with an open hand, continuing, “but let’s be clear on something. Even if Hotch was the most powerful Kinetic on the planet, which he’s not, if he chose not to use it, not to tell us about it – we can – we need to respect that. It’s too damn easy hearing the word Kinetic and then expecting something else entirely. He’s Hotch, always has been and always will be, and this doesn’t change anything.” _

_ There was a moment’s silence, until JJ sighed and said, “Only it does.”  _

_ Emily nodded glumly, sharing a sad smile with David before saying, “He is still Hotch, but now he’s also Hotch with the ability to turn on the lights, knock out a suspect, flip a car...” _

_ Disgruntled, Rossi shook his head, “Hardly...” _

_ “We’ve always teased him about how emotionally shut off he is, even before Hayley left him. And now we, I can’t help but wonder... about everything – if he’s that emotionally shut off for a reason, because of the ... Kinesis.” _

_ Reid opened his mouth, thought better of it and sighed, “Guess it’s not really... any of our business. Hasn’t ever impacted his work or effectiveness.” _

_ “Makes Chief Strauss’ concerns about his leadership abilities a little more... understandable. If she knows.” JJ said quietly. _

_ “Oh, she knows.” Rossi stated simply. “But hardly justifies her behaviour.” _

_ Uneasy, uncertain silence fell over them and Derek shuffled uncomfortably. “So we just ... act like nothing’s changed, huh? We get thrown a case that is linked to one solved by an Empath and suddenly Hotch is off to fetch him, because he’s a Kinetic and will save the Agency the fee of a handler?” _

_ “I’m sure he’d appreciate it – us acting like nothing’s changed.”  _

_ JJ and Emily shared a look and then JJ said, “The NCIS case and ours must be linked, and we need to figure out how...if the unsubs are connected, know each other... shall I call Garcia?” _

_ “I’ll call her,” Derek offered, turning away, pulling out his phone. Reid drew in a deep breath and said, “Someone should probably go interview Sorenson.” _

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Train Station – Washington, D.C.

Having barely caught his breath from the last sprint, Derek nearly lost Winchester and Hotch in the press of people coming off a train, and he cursed loudly, both in frustration and anger. What in the hell was going on? Emily was behind him, he could hear her yelling over the phone and then, there was Rossi also belting hell for leather towards them. 

Hotchner was really moving though, running like a pro, faster than the unsub had and he was pulling away from Winchester, who was flagging. Hotch ran right into one of the small restaurants in the station, scattering waiters and patrons and Derek managed to side step an armful of plates, which Winchester was not as fortunate to dodge. 

The ensuing clatter of broken crockery and shouts was shattering and he didn’t hear Winchester’s cry of ‘Morgan, wait!’ before he was running into the kitchen, the back of Hotch’s suit jacket disappearing behind the tall shelves and equipment. He heard the back door slam shut, dodged a startled cook and then was shouldering his own way through. The alley behind the restaurant was quiet, startling so after the noise of the kitchen and on instinct he ran away from the street, turning the corner.

It took all of 3 seconds. 

Derek turned the corner, spotted Hotch, yelled for him to stop, slow down, freeze and then wham! It was like running into a wall, again and Derek dropped to the ground. 

They had outpaced the others and only Winchester had kept up for a while but right now, it was just him and Hotchner in that alley. Reeling, suddenly on his knees and a chill running across his skin, Derek looked up at Aaron looming over him, a distant, cold, cruel smile on his face and then pain unlike anything he had felt before ripped through him. 

Three seconds and he was shirtless, on his knees, back arched in pain as a long slow ‘slit’ opened up along his spine and his mouth was on fire as a solid, brass ring twisted itself through his lips. Three frigging seconds.

Derek tried to move, tried to talk, anything, but he was frozen in place and as he looked up at Hotch, his heart thundering in his ears, he heard unfamiliar, ancient sounding gibberish spilling from Hotch’s lips and Morgan knew with certainty that he was dead. Aaron was smiling, a horrible, delighted smile and Derek could feel a blinding pain building behind his eyes and it felt like he was crying, the pain turning into a burn.

The stab of pain in his back was rising to a crescendo in concert with his burning eyes and as three seconds ticked over into four, Derek _felt_ the ‘No!’ more than he heard it and a surge of energy rattled the alley, sending garbage can lids rolling and papers into the air. 

Winchester staggered around the corner, breathing hard but his hands were outstretched, the electric aura around him tangible even to Derek. ‘Thank God.’

And Hotch stopped, visibly furious at the interruption, visibly irate at being denied. Aaron spat out something that sounded like an order and Winchester drawled, the strain audible in his voice, “No comprehende, sicko. Now get the hell out of him, before I toast your ass.”

Derek felt the line of agony on his back grow and howled through strained lips and _felt_ the invisible force that surged from Dean, bolstering him, knocking Hotch back again, the line of agony disappearing. “Get out!” The rise in empathic energy was nauseating, Morgan tasting metal and blood, head swimming both in pain and from the sensation of raw anger, pushing at Hotch. Aaron however just laughed, a dusty dry laugh so unlike the rare chuckle that occasionally escaped him.

“Shit.” Winchester sounded seriously strained, and out of the corner of his eye, Derek saw the sheen of sweat, Dean’s hands visibly shaking with effort and felt his own desperation rise. ‘Please, please, please don’t let him kill me.’

Whether Winchester felt his emotional plea or not, he took a step forward, grasped the railing of the fire escape rising above them and gasped, “Sorry, man.”

If Derek had hair, he knew his entire head would have been an electrified fro as Winchester sent a crackling wave of very real electricity up along the metal. The snap and crack of ozone and electricity filled the alley, and Hotch took a wary step backwards, watching the play of sparks and curls along the metal. The invisible hold on Derek faded and his arms dropped, the ache in his back vanishing.

Hotch yelled out something unintelligible, pointing an imperious finger at Dean who was staggered back, but didn’t let go of the railing. The increasing charge was building and for a moment it looked like Hotchner, or whoever the hell was controlling Hotch, thought it was going to amount to nothing because a slow, knowing smile grew on that usually expressionless face. So it was a little funny that as the bolt of electricity jumped from the railing straight at him, the look of surprise was utterly priceless.

The bolt connected with a sharp crack of thunder, and knocked him flying, crashing in a pile of trash cans. Blinking back the negative images, the bolt replaying over and over in the air, Derek felt the invisible hold vanish completely and he dropped forward, hands barely breaking his fall. On all fours, breathing hard, it took a few moments to notice his mouth was open, the ring gone. Stunned he felt his mouth, noted the blood, but no wounds... and automatically he reached behind to feel his back and instantly winced... the cut was very much still there.

“Hey. HEY!”

Looking up, he saw Dean crouched over an insensate Hotchner, holding up one hand, checking for a pulse. Catching Derek’s shaken gaze, Winchester yelled, “Ya got any salt?”

‘Huh?’ His confusion must have been apparent, despite his lack of voice, because Winchester rolled his eyes and yelled again, “Come on! Anything?”

Remembering tucking a small packet of table salt into his pocket because... of some odd reason, Derek waved towards his neatly folded dress shirt and then couldn’t stop looking at that neat little pile of shirt, vest, ID and wallet. 3 frigging seconds.

Not even Winchester hurrying over and rifling through it could break the very real horrible realisation that... it had been that close. It had taken 3 seconds. 

Winchester was muttering to himself loudly, “Come on, come on, stupid fr... got it!” Stunned and more than a little shaken, belated adrenalin surging through him, Derek watched Winchester lighting a pile of paper and salt... around the knife? 

The little fire burned bright and hot and briefly, sputtering out after a sharp burst of flame. Certain that he had imagined the brief wail of despair that echoed through the alley, Derek looked at the unconscious Hotchner and stammered, “Hotch...”

“He’ll be fine.” Winchester didn’t sound too certain, but he was checking Aaron’s pulse again and despite being knocked on his ass by a mini lightning bolt, Hotch was still breathing. Looked pale and as still as death, but breathing. 

And then, typically, Rossi and Prentiss came thundering around the corner, came to an abrupt stop and stared. Morgan knew it, they, looked pretty damn out of this world. Shirtless, bleeding and on his knees, he deadpanned, “That ambulance still nearby?” 

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Normally, the hustle and press of paramedics and police officers was familiar, usual. But right now, Emily felt like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand being asked one more time ‘What the Hell happened?’ and the capital H in hell was pretty damn audible. 

Derek was being fussed over in the back of an ambulance, his back a mess but apparently not serious. Hotch was also in an ambulance but his was already heading towards the hospital, Aaron still unconscious. The EMTs had been unable to tell them if he was ok, or just ... hanging in there, and they had rushed him off, yelling about electric shock and heart damage. 

Meanwhile, the milling Crime Scene techs and Police Officers were all adding to the confusion. The John Doe unsub was still on scene, the corner waiting to bag the remains. Reid was hovering near a Tech, waiting to see if an identity could be traced, while Rossi and JJ were handling the press, the DA and a few curious FBI agents. It was a real circus but luckily so far no had said the magic words ‘Kinetic’ or ‘Empath’ gone crazy, so it was just the usual hubbub of an arrest gone pear shaped. Rossi had agreed to keep the details of Hotch’s attack on Derek limited to ‘we’re investigating’ but they all knew that wasn’t going to fly with the DA and Chief Strauss for long.

Which was why Prentiss was supposed to be talking to Winchester to get a better picture of exactly what ‘had’ gone down. What had happened to Hotch, why did he flip out like that and in general pin point ‘What in the Hell had happened’ with all the capital letters.

Winchester however was a little on edge right now, pacing back and forth, a tight ball of controlled... emotion? There was a very distinct ‘bubble’ around him and anyone who got too close, quickly backed off – the vibe coming off him was intense – a miasma of anger, guilt, pain and stress. 

But Emily ‘needed’ to know, had to know, so she took a deep breath and marched over, refusing to rub her arms as the hairs stood on end as she got closer. Ignoring the prickle of tension in the air, she said, “Dean.” He didn’t stop pacing but he did look at her, face unreadable even if his anxiety was palpable. 

“Ah, I ...” Emily started and then abruptly changed tack and simply said, “Is it over? The whole weird feeling thing ... anger and betrayal and ...”

Winchester was nodding, and said calmly, “Weirdo vibe is gone. Hotch... Agent Hotchner should be ok.”

Emily couldn’t help herself, “Should?”

“I hit him pretty hard.”

“Oh.” There wasn’t much more she could say to that except, “We have to tell ... them something.” She waved over at the crowd, Rossi and JJ talking very fast. Dean was silent, contemplative but nervousness was leaking through. Eventually he said, “Its gonna ... stretch the imagination... more than usual.”

Emily nodded, not really sure why she was but they needed to give people answers. Winchester looked at the growing crowd as well and sighed, “Tell them it’s a T&E matter. The usual protocols.”

“But?”

“Look, unless Hotchner is awake to explain his side, anything I say is gonna make people nervous and jump to conclusions.”

“Galvaston conclusions?”

“Freaky weird ass shit that sounds a lot like a ghost conclusions.”

Emily just stared at Winchester who stared blankly back before saying, “You know what they do to crazy Empaths and Kinetics?”

That was an easy one and she said it without thinking, “Lock them up for life.”

“Lock them up for life,” Dean repeated, the emotional leakage overwhelmed by a surge of fear, very real fear. Emily nodded, sharply and said, “Any excuse, right?”

His nod was firm and Emily stalked off towards Rossi and JJ, who looked immensely relieved when she arrived. “Agent Prentiss, tell us something good.”

Not sure what yarns they’d been spinning, Emily dived straight it with, “We’re calling T&E in – the usual protocols with the press, please.”

The FBI Agents looked relieved, as did the District Chief and they nodded and backed off. The DA however shook his head angrily and said, “That’s damn cop out. People have been murdered and the moment T&E step in, justice goes out of the window. How do I answer the victim’s family, the ...”

Emily sympathised, and she injected as much sincerity as she could, “Dean, the Empath assures me that it’s over, this is over. And I hate to say it, but if rumours start flying around about psycho Empaths or Kinetics on the loose, any justice you might want is going to get buried in panic and vigilante mobs.” 

The DA paled, shot a nervous glance in Dean’s direction and said, “You certain... he certain?”

“No and that’s why we’re calling T&E in. Their methods suck but the last thing we need are local, law abiding Kinetics and Empaths getting attacked. Privacy laws aside, these things have ways of leaking out.”

Nodding, the DA said. “T&E and their damn laws are affront to our constitution but hell if I’m going to tell the Mayor why there are riots in downtown D.C. You keep me in the loop, you hear?”

Rossi was glaring at Emily, even as JJ saw the DA off, and Prentiss shrugged, helplessly, “You wanna jump to conclusions without Hotch being awake to explain exactly what ‘he’ was doing to Morgan?”

At that Rossi deflated a little and nodded, “No, not really. But are we really calling T&E?”

“No, just getting everyone else off Hotch’s back. Too many people saw John Doe take that dive and then Derek run off without injuries. We can’t fudge the timeline...”

“Do we want to?” Reid chipped in, face earnest, “I assume we want the truth, no matter how bad it is.”

Rossi shook his head, “Hotch has had the year from hell and if we can smooth this over, make it go away, then I am all for that. He hates this Kinetic crap, far more than we do. So if we can make everyone else think T&E’s handling it and then pull the wool over T&E’s eyes... I’m ok with that.”

JJ sighed, “You’re just not ok with Winchester taking the lead, calling the shots on this one.”

“Yes.” Reid was nodding too and Emily whispered sharply, “Even after all this – he was right, you know.”

Rossi nodded, undeterred, “Right or wrong, doesn’t change the fact that we’ve got no clue what just happened, we’re taking his word that it’s over and two of our team are in the hospital. The guy is a sociopath, highly skilled manipulator and an excellent liar. Do not for a moment believe that he is not able to lead us down the garden path to whatever story best suits him.”

“But,” Emily sighed. However Rossi ignored her, saying instead, “He was right about Koravi, but here we sit, without Hotch – the only one who we could look to to verify anything he says and I can promise you now, the first thing out of his mouth is going to be – you can’t send me back, you need me to sort this out. And then some long spiel about there being a T&E conspiracy or shit like that.”

Emily felt utterly torn. Rossi had a point and well, Winchester’s file was thick and contradictory but... it really stretched the imagination that someone could manipulate events like this. But she couldn’t deny that they hadn’t seen smarter, more resourceful sociopaths than Dean Winchester pull off minor miracles in misdirection. JJ seemed hesitant, and perhaps it spoke to Rossi’s point that the two women on the team were most sympathetic. Although, Morgan...

Derek was watching them, his face grim, clearly picking up on the tension. Emily said clearly, directing her words at Rossi. “Whatever we decide, we wait till Hotch is conscious and we all agree on it... alright?”

Reid nodded, as did JJ. Rossi was slow to agree, but did so nonetheless. The circus of paramedics and cops was already dying down as T&E protocols were implemented and Emily waved reassuringly at Morgan as she hurried over to Dean.

No doubt he had picked up on the emotions of their conversation, if not the actual content. He was no longer pacing, just leaning against a wall, staring off in the distance, at a point across the road. Out of habit she checked as well, noting that it looked like someone was watching from the pool of shadows between the side street and a shop window. The moment passed though, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud and Dean straightened. “You done arguing?”

Her smile was half hearted and Emily said, “Told the cops and the DA that T&E were taking over. But everyone else... has questions I guess. Lots of questions.”

“Go figure.” He had tampered down on the emotional leakage, which right now was not selling his believability unfortunately. So Emily asked, “Freak conclusions aside, is it over? Once you and Hotch explain?”

Winchester nodded, arms folded now, and said, “Yeah.”

She wanted to ask, wanted to probe, find out if Rossi was right, if he was going to feed them a story in order to stay out of T&E’s direct control. But there was nothing forthcoming so she shrugged, “We’re going to follow Derek to the hospital – kay to ride with me?”

“Sure.” He shot one last look across the street and then followed her.

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Across the Street

“See, he’s fine, Sam. That navy cop got you worked up over nothing.”

“NCIS Agent. And I don’t know, Dean looks a little... thin?”

“Come on, it’s not like he couldn’t afford to shed a few pounds, they’ve probably got him on a nice healthy diet. No more burgers and fries.”

Sam leant against the cool brick of the wall, slouching into its solid presence and sighed, “I... it’s kinda weird seeing him and not being able to ... feel anything.”

“Sure, but it’s not like you can do anything about it, Sam. Even if you contracted into T&E, you’d end up sharing him... like that’s going to work well and still keep hunting.”

Sam nodded absently, watching Dean talk to the FBI Agents, his gestures slow, posture slumped. “He looks tired.”

A snort, “They’ve just chased down some guy, come on ... let’s go before he sees us.”

“Maybe I should at least...”

“You know he’d _feel_ what we’re doing, what we’re trying to accomplish, Sam. You know he won’t understand.”

“Yeah, I know, Ruby but still... he’s right over there.”

“And Lilith is still out there,” Ruby hissed, gesturing wilding in a vague back there direction. “Dean’s not safe, you’re not safe, no one is safe until you take care of Lilith.”

Sam declined to answer, running his hand over his mouth and face, torn with indecision. “Maybe Dean could help... I mean...”

Ruby’s laugh was rife with derision, her smile mocking, “Yeah... that’ll work, Sam. You two on the run from T&E, the Feds, hell the whole world while trying to track down Lilith who will take one look at Dean, see he’s your weak spot and take him out. We’ve got her on the run, Sam. We can’t lose momentum now.”

Straightening, Sam nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets and muttered, “Yeah, I know.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Kay.”

With one last, lingering look, Sam turned. And left.

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A/N: I know, I suck  J

  



	5. Supply and Demand: Repeat Business Part 5/5 (SPN/Criminal Minds AU Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Criminal Minds/SPN Crossover AU. Mitch Koravi was dead, to begin with. But when a man is killed using his exact MO, the BAU have to eat humble pie and bring back the Empath told them their case was not closed, Dean Winchester

Chapter 5

The ride to the hospital was pretty quiet. Electing to take two cars, there had been a moment of almost comic indecision as to who would actually ride in which car, and in the end, Rossi and Prentiss took one, with Winchester in the back, leaving Reid and JJ to take the town car.

After the hubbub of the crime scene and trying to wrap up the curious police officers and federal agents questions, they were finally on their way to the hospital to check on Hotch and Morgan. JJ had already heard from the hospital that Derek’s wounds were not serious, and that a plastic surgeon would be consulting on the repair to the slice on his back.

Everyone’s relief was tempered however by the big question mark hanging over Hotch. In these instances, no news was definitely not good news. And judging by the fidgeting going on next to her, Prentiss figured that Rossi was dying to question Winchester further, probe past any lies he was expecting, get to the bottom of the earlier events.

Dean however remained silent, content to wait on Hotch.

“Is this actually a T&E matter?”

Looked like Rossi couldn’t restrain himself any longer, and Emily joined him in looking at Dean in the rear view mirror, the Empath slouched in the back seat. He was still visibly shaken or high on adrenalin, as there was a faint tremor in his hands, his eyes flat and dull but cheeks pinked.

Winchester was slow to answer, more interested in the passing scenery than their conversation and Rossi was just about the ask again, when he said, “Only if you want your boss committed.”

Frowning herself now, Emily nodded along with Rossi when he snapped, “How about you quit acting all vague and try telling the truth, and let us decide what’s the best of course of action?”

The spike of anger was brief but telling and Dean continued to stare out of the window as he bit out, “You ever see that movie with Denzel Washington, Fallen?”

While Rossi looked confused, Emily quickly exclaimed, “The one with the demon... Azazael... ? Are you saying this was some sort of demon?” She knew Rossi would be sharing her look of incredulous disbelief as she turned around in her seat to look at Winchester.

He was shaking his head though, glancing over at her, perhaps judging her reaction. “No, but the principal applies.”

“Huh?” Emily stammered, looking at Rossi who shrugged, “You mean something evil being passed along? From person to person – like an infection?”

Winchester nodded briefly, now carefully watching her. Rossi, trying to keep his eyes on the road barked, “What, now you want us to believe in ghosts and demons?”

With his cool gaze boring into her, Emily thought he was about to nod, but he slumped back into the seat and said, “No. I want you to consider the possibility of an infection, only with emotions or purpose.”

Slightly derailed and very unsure as to how to broach that, Prentiss shifted in her seat, still with her back to Rossi and said, “So, it is something... T&E related. Emotional infection? And if T&E get involved, Hotch will ... what?”

“Disappear into the system.”

At that Rossi laughed, “Nice try, Winchester. But don’t think we’re going to buy into your paranoid delusions. You are playing on our emotions, pushing us towards a course of action you want because you hope we’re afraid you might be right. How about you stop lying and be straight with us?”

“I’m not lying.” And Dean didn’t sound defensive, more resigned, weary. Like he’d had this conversation many times before.

“But you aren’t telling us the truth either,” Rossi stated simply, no longer looking back into the mirror, eyes on the road, face angry. Emily however watched the flicker of emotion across his face, felt the spike of frustration from Dean.

“You can’t handle the truth.” Winchester’s tone was mocking and Rossi laughed in derision, but Prentiss was too busy watching them both, feeling the minute changes in the empathic field and Winchester knew she was doing it as well, judging by his increasing anger.

“You’re afraid,” she said, suddenly. And he was, he really really was. She just didn’t know why. “What’s the worst that can happen if you tell us the truth?”

But Dean didn’t answer, he was too busy trying to reign in his empathic field, stop all the emotional leakage, and in that concentration, he shut her out, no longer interested or willing to talk. Rossi however growled, “We’re here. Don’t think this is over, Winchester.”

And the nurse at Reception had good news for them. Hotchner was awake and asking for them... Dean particularly. It was an awkward procession up to the ward where Hotch was being moved to, and they all stopped in to see Derek. A very happy, doped up Derek, who waved at them happily, mouthing something indistinct from his bed, looking pretty out of it.

The nurse on the ward gave them the go ahead and Emily and JJ were through the door first, Rossi and Reid close on their heels. The last time they had all seen Hotch in a hospital, Foyet had stabbed him, and as much the situation was different, and Hotch had no visible wounds, it was still disconcerting seeing him back in a hospital bed.

And surprisingly enough, Hotchner had a small smile for them, which they all returned warmly. “Derek ok?” Rossi nodded, “Getting patched up now. High as a kite.”

And then, the awkward silence returned, until JJ said brightly, “And you, the nurse said your vitals were stabilising, nothing...”

“Nothing damaged, they just want to keep me for observation,” Hotch said quietly, inserting as much reassurance into his voice as possible. And Reid was the first to voice what they were all wondering, “Do you remember what happened?”

And rather than shut down or ignore them, Hotch nodded and said, “I do, Reid. But I really need to speak to Dean first.”

Not pleased, Rossi hmmed and tried to sound as reasonable as possible, “Well... we’d actually prefer hearing your version of events without his input, Hotch.”

Aaron stared at him, and Rossi stared coolly back, with the others caught a little off balance with the sudden jolt of tension between them. Behind them, still in the doorway, Winchester slouched against the doorframe, a bur in the usual smooth workings of their team. Hotch squinted a little and said, “How about you give me the benefit of the doubt, David. I let you persuade me into ignoring my instincts last time and you owe me a little trust on this one.”

Nodding reluctantly, Rossi said, “Yeah, ok.”

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As Reid closed the door behind him, a sheepish grin on his face, Hotch lent back into the upright pillow and motioned for Dean to come closer. This he did with a single step, keeping his distance from the bed, arms folded over his chest, leg tapping a little with nerves.

“Please sit.”

Apparently exhausted enough to comply, Dean did so, but pushed the chair backwards as he did so, maintaining his distance. Gathering himself, trying to find just the right words, Aaron studied his hands as he said, “Thank you for stopping me.”

Dean nodded fractionally, slumping into the chair, like the ability to sit up straight was slowly being leeched out of him. “It felt... I felt ... not myself. I was... someone else.” Hotch looked up from his hands and continued, “I was someone very old, and very ... unusual.”

“Kay.”

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” Hotch quirked an eyebrow at Winchester, who shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine. So, what, I was possessed?”

Another nod, slow and reluctant. “Koravi was a student of the Middle East and if I recall correctly, he stole a dagger reputed to have been one of the daggers used to kill Sennacherib, King of Assyria.” Dean didn’t nod this time, but the soft puff of exhalation was affirmative in tone. “And you decided to keep this to yourself?” A shrug of confirmation.

Huffing himself, Hotch said, “You get why Rossi and Reid, why I don’t trust you, then? You were keeping something back. The knife was ... the key to all of this.”

“Would you have believed me?”

Shaking his head, Aaron answered, “Probably not. But ...” He trailed off, Dean’s sceptical expression derailing him a little. Changing tact, Hotch said instead, “Before I fetched you from T&E last month, I had an interesting conversation with Agent Gibbs.”

Now Dean’s eye quirked in query, a soft smile on his lips. “I also read your FBI file, and ... I was ... waiting for you try pull the wool over my eyes, like you did Agent Gibbs.”

“Must have been some conversation.”

“I figured he was a Kinetic you had twisted around your finger, and well... your reluctance to tell me everything, the truth, only added to that suspicion.” Hotch said firmly, refusing to take all the blame for the situation and Dean smirked a little.

Rolling his eyes, Dean added, “If you read my file, you get my ... reluctance to hand you and T&E more ammunition.”

“Yes, I do. And until I felt ... and feel free to step in here correct me, I felt something crawl into me and take over, and try to kill my friend, I would have thought you were as delusional as Hendricksen maintains you are.”

Before Dean could say anything else, Hotch let a large portion of his real emotions through his tight grasp on them and he snapped, “But because you were so busy trying to cover your own back, too afraid to step up, I nearly killed my friend!”

“If you’d just trusted...”

“Trusted? Trusted! Dean, you are a convicted felon, and I could feel that you were lying to me – hell, we all are experts at picking up deception and you were lying to us! You ... I hate to say this, Dean and I don’t care how unfair it is, but you had... you needed to earn our trust first. Instead a man died because you were too afraid to speak up...”

Dean stood up, his chair clattering backwards and jabbed an angry finger at Hotchner and growled, “With damn good reason! Do you have any idea how many Empaths there are that don’t work for T&E?”

“What?”

“None, Hotchner, none! Once they get their claws into you, they never let go. They are killing me and all you can do is lay there and whine that I frigging didn’t tell you about a ghost and in the same breath hand you enough ammunition to let those bastards lock me away for life. So, yeah, I’m freaking selfish – because no one else is looking out for me!”

“I...”

“You want to truth, Agent Hotchner? The truth is ... you start talking about ghosts, even if you aren’t a damn Empath and people think you’re crazy. Start talking about ghosts when you’re a convicted felon, and an Empath to boot and they won’t just think you’re crazy, they help the bastards stick you a padded cell!”

“Dean...”

Somewhat belatedly, Hotch reigned in his own emotions and in response, Winchester did too, the swirling fury of anger and hate and guilt churning around them slowly dropping into a less volatile levels and Dean dropped back into the chair, glaring at Aaron.

Pulling himself together, trying to reconcile his own emotions with those of Dean’s, aware that despite his words, Winchester did in fact feel guilty, sick in fact, that the case had almost cost another person their life. Nearly cost Hotchner his. So Aaron said as calmly as he could, “I owe you an apology for that, Dean. I ... hate needing an Empath, something you can doubt feel and I hardly made it easy for you to trust me either, I suppose.”

The ever artful shrug was the only response, and Hotch continued, “I think we could have both handled this ... case... a little better. Been less... defensive.”

“Dude, convicted felon, surrounded by federal agents. You’d be defensive too.” Dean pointed at himself and then Hotch, who nodded in agreement. “None the less... given your apparent expertise in this field... is the case now closed – the, ah, ghost dispelled?”

Dean nodded, face blank, but he said, “Positive. Dusted for real now.”

Nodding still, Aaron mused more to himself, “And how exactly do we... close our case?”

“Easy, man. Tell the Feds T&E is handling it and tell T&E you closed it. Feds will back off a T&E case, and T&E don’t give a shit about law enforcement that’s not their own.”

“Kinda risky ...”

“You want that Strauss lady finding out you were possessed by a ghost?”

“No. Fine. But what do we tell my team? Telling them this is a T&E case isn’t going to fly.”

“Tell them whatever the hell you want, man. Just make sure I’m not around when you do.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

There was a tentative knock on the door and without waiting for an acknowledgment, Reid stuck his head in and said, “Everything ok?”

“Fine, Reid.”

“Kay ... just that there are a couple of T&E Agents here... to pick up Winchester.”

At Hotch’s glare, Reid gulped and shut the door. Feeling a little angry, perhaps unfairly, Hotch bit out, “Did you call them?”

Dean looked as shocked as his empathic field was leaking and he shook his head, “Hell no, man. I try to stay away as long as possible. Must be an emergency or ... something.”

And then, Aaron suddenly felt the impending sensation of loss at the thought of not being near Winchester. One day, not even, a morning and he was already pining for that dimly sensed connection. Picking up on his feelings, Dean smirked half heartedly and said, “Sorry. Grade A crack, that’s me.”

“I...”

 “Look, we ok, man? I didn’t...”

And Hotch was still angry, still had a hundred questions and wanted Dean to explain ghosts and his FBI file and well... just frigging stay put but maybe it would be best if he left now, before ...

“We’re ok. If I need...”

“Whatever, man. You need an overpriced filing clerk, I’m probably not available but definitely willing.”

“Thanks... for saving my life.”

The urge to hold out his hand, shake Dean’s hand was intense, but Hotch carefully curled his hand into a fist and nodded, as Dean muttered a ‘welcome’ before opening the door and walking away. Reid immediately stepped inside, and gasped, “Rossi’s giving them, the T&E Agents, the third degree, but their IDs look legit. You ok, letting Winchester go?”

Hotch nodded, “Yeah, we can wrap up everything without him.”

Stunned, surprised and hiding it well, Reid nodded in unison and said, “I’ll tell Rossi.”

And a few moments later, Hotch _felt_ Dean slowly walk down the hospital corridor and then ... fade away.

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It was perhaps unfair, because Emily knew Winchester couldn’t really help it, but the tension levels in the team really dropped after he left with the blank faced T&E Agents. Rossi and Reid relaxed, no longer on their guard, JJ was getting positive feedback from the media and well, Hotch was looking – better.

But as much as his absence helped, Emily kinda wished Dean had stuck around for this conversation, which at least would mean Hotch wouldn’t be on his own, dealing with their curiosity and all the Kinetic crap.

They had all waited for Hotch to get re-settled after a nurse’s visit and then for the doctor to finish his rounds, and then Derek to wake up long enough to give them the go ahead to speak to Hotch without him. And then, it was time to ‘have that talk.’

Trying to make this less like an interrogation and more a general conversation, Rossi let Emily take the lead, nodding at her in encouragement. Reid was slouched in the chair previously occupied by Winchester, while JJ took the seat opposite. Smiling reassuringly, Emily said, “So, to get it out of the way, we are all in agreement, if you agree, Hotch. This will stay between us, whatever it is, if you want it to.”

Reid was scanning everyone’s faces, visibly nervous and Hotch nodded minutely, “The recommendation that we report that T&E is investigating the case is ... the best option. I can confirm that this is indeed over,” and he looked at Rossi as he continued, “and that is based on my information and not Dean’s.”

Rossi nodded, remaining quiet for now, letting Hotch continue. But Aaron didn’t, instead he paused, looked around at his team and actually looked embarrassed. Before anyone could say anything though, he coughed and said, “I’ve been trying to think of way to explain this to you without ... sounding crazy. Because as much as this may sound ... extraordinary, I’d like you to keep an open mind.”

Everyone nodded, JJ smiling reassuringly and taking Hotch’s hand and saying, “Sure thing, Hotch.”

There was a full beat of anticipation and then Hotch said, “I was possessed.”

And then there were several beats of stunned silence.

Feeling like she had to push her open mouth closed, Prentiss was the first to speak, or more likely squeak, “Say what?”

Both Rossi and Reid were staring at Hotch, gaze careful and considering and JJ just looked worried. Judging their reactions, Aaron smiled wanly, a brief twitch of the lips and said calmly, “I picked up the knife and felt something, someone come over me and ... push me aside.”

Emily couldn’t help herself, “Who?”

“Sennacherib, King of Assyria.”

And at that the stunned silence was back. Completely flummoxed and floored, Emily and JJ looked at Rossi and Reid, both men very silent and very serious. Hotch just stared at them calmly, whatever emotions he was feeling as deeply buried as usual.

Reid inclined his brief slightly and Rossi opened his mouth, closed it and then said, “I know you’ve read Winchester’s file, Aaron. And I know you are aware of the ... defense, rationalization he offered for some of his crimes. And while I could try and understand some weird telekinetic, empathic ... thing, ghosts and possession... don’t just cross a line, it raises serious concerns.”

Nodding slowly, Reid picked it up, “The idea that .... Telekinesis and empathy have factual and scientific basis, Hotch. Ghosts... and poss.... Ghosts remain the realm of the delusional and gullible.”

Emily quickly looked at Hotch to see if he took offense at Reid’s slight, but Aaron was nodding in agreement, and had raised a hand to forestall any more comments. “Agreed. Completely and utterly. And if anyone else, a witness or let alone a suspect had offered that as an explanation, I would be sceptical as you.”

“But?” Rossi quipped, relaxing slightly at Hotch’s admission.

“But nothing. And perhaps let me clarify, I never said it was a ghost.”

Reid, quick to interject, said, “You said it was Sennarcherib. Who... is dead.”

“I did.”

Rossi sighed, and rubbed his eyes, his weariness obvious, “Hotch, forgive me but I’m pretty tired of this vague mysterious crap. What in the hell happened? And more importantly, did Winchester tell you it was a ghost, or a possession by a long dead Biblical figure?”

“Hear me out then, David.”

Rossi shrugged, settled back against the wall, and everyone else nodded. Soothing the bed sheets, Hotch spoke directly at Rossi. “First. Consider the three murderers. Sorenson, Koravi and ...”

“Joe Buffold,” JJ supplied.

“Sorenson, Koravi, Buffold. And me.”

Emily nodded more to herself than anything and JJ looked intent. “The only thing, and on this I will stake my career, that links all of us, is an ancient dagger from the Middle East.”

Suddenly animated, Reid nodded, “Staff Sergeant Matthews was selling stolen antiquities. Koravi stole the dagger from the Jeffersonian.”

A brief nod, and Hotch continued, “Four men, different backgrounds, no signs of a psychotic break, stressors or motive. Only one link, one similarity. They came into contact or were in possession of an Assyrian dagger.”

“Ok,” Rossi nodded.

“Second. In the thirty odd years since the Dr Bishop experiments were identified, never has an Empath been able to ‘track’ a suspect from a crime scene.”

And the sceptical eyebrows from Rossi, Hotch quickly continued, “I had Garcia check. Empaths have been used to confirm testimonies, pick out overly guilty suspects, but never, ever track someone from a crime scene. Now, leaving aside your understandable concern and scepticism, Rossi, that fact remains.”

Nodding again, Rossi said, “Ok. I may view it in a different light from you, but ok.”

“Third, we are all aware that individuals suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder can believe themselves to be ... just about anyone, any personality. Fourth, it is scientifically verified that objects maintain a trace emotion that Empaths can feel, and violent, sadistic emotion would be extremely powerful and lingering.”

“Hotch...” Emily laughed, “You mean you think Winchester was projecting the personality of a ghost through a dagger in order to possess someone, continue killing people and what, frame you?”

Both Rossi and Reid stared at Emily in ... astonishment. “That’s ... not quite what I was thinking, Emily .. but plausible if we believe those assertions,” Reid stammered.

Rossi shot a worried glance at Hotch before saying, “I was thinking more along the lines of Winchester covering his ass and ingratiating himself with you.“

Prentiss and Reid shook their heads, “That’s a stretch, Rossi.”

A soft cough, a clearing of the throat and the three of them looked at Aaron who was ... angry, as only Hotch could be – tightly restrained. “Fifth, if Dean wanted to frame me, he wouldn’t have stopped me from killing Derek. That dagger was ... possessed or influenced or infected by an intense emotion.”

JJ pursed her lips and said firmly, “But what are you saying Hotch? Were you possessed or not?”

“What I am saying, asking is – that you consider that there is more to this than meets the eye. That maybe... it is not beyond the realms of reasonable belief for this to be a type of possession – considering the dagger, the high empathy levels and lingering emotional resonance.”

Rossi shook his head, “Sorry, Aaron. I can’t. All I can see is Winchester playing games, getting you to doubt yourself, manipulating you, pushing you over the edge – he may have stopped you from hurting Morgan but that doesn’t mean he didn’t create the situation in the first place. He has been connected to this case from the beginning and all it has resulted in ... is him out in the field and working with you.”

“If your profile of Dean is correct, David, that he is something of a Borderline Personality, then that hardly fits with his confidence and cocksure attitude. He has hardly been seeking our - my approval. ”

Reid coughed, “Uh,but if you buy into his delusion and sense of victimization, believe his lies, maybe you’d... help him escape.”

“And we had this conversation a month ago,” Hotch barked. But Rossi bit back, “And one more person died. Right now, I am not seeing this case as closed, Aaron, as all I have is Winchester’s word that it is and yours... and you believe you were possessed! Perhaps you should consider the possibility that Winchester has orchestrated this from the beginning, all in an effort to escape custody and confuse any situation where he might be involved in a crime.”

Emily shifted uncomfortable, the tension the room rocketing again. JJ was chewing her lip, while Reid was looking nauseous. Rossi and Hotch though, were glaring at each other.

Finally, Hotch bit out, anger lacing his voice, “Fine, Rossi then you explain why I was talking a dead language while I ripped Derek apart! And you ask Derek just how in the hell I managed to undress him, fold his damn clothes, magic a ring out of thin air and start to flail him in three seconds!”

And while Rossi glowered at Hotch, the nurse stuck her head into the room, frowned at them all and said, “That’s enough excitement. Everyone out.”

And a silent and subdued team trooped out, no easier or relieved than before.

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24 hours and several more uncomfortable and heated conversations with his team later, Aaron received an unexpected visitor. Without so much as a knock or pause, Agent Andrews stormed into Hotch’s room the next morning and came to an abrupt stop.

Prentiss was hot on his heels and she exclaimed, “Wait... I told you he was in there... what is going on, who are you?”

“T&E business, Agent Prentiss. I have urgent business with Agent Hotchner.”

At Hotch’s nod, Prentiss backed off but she did not leave. Despite himself, Aaron was curious and said coolly, “Agent Andrews?”

“I’m ... I thought... where the hell is Winchester, Hotchner?” Andrews stammered, glaring at Hotch as if he was hiding Winchester under the bed.

“What? He left... with your guys,” Emily exclaimed, looking at Hotch in amazement. That dull, unpleasant sensation of unease stirred within Hotch, and he added, “Why would you think he’d be here, Andrews?”

But Andrews was paying more attention to Emily, and he demanded, “What guys?”

“T&E Agents. They collected Winchester yesterday, said there was some sort of emergency.” Andrews visibly paled and half shouted, “Did you morons even check their IDs? Do you have any idea how valuable Empaths are?”

Affronted, Prentiss snapped back, “Of course we checked their IDs, tripled checked them even. Why would someone ... are you saying ... someone stole Winchester?”

Andrews however was already on his phone, yelling at someone on the other end, “Pull all the cctv footage from this hospital and surrounding blocks for the past 24 hours ... now, idiot!”

He whirled around and jabbed an indignant finger at Hotch, snarling, “This on you, Hotchner. You lost him!” But Andrews didn’t stick around to vent any further and stormed out of the room, yelling into his phone.

Stunned Hotch and Prentiss stared at each other until Aaron said, “Call Garcia, see what she can find. Did you ...”

“They seemed ok, Hotch. Winchester went along willingly ... you think he planned it?”

And strangely enough, Aaron found himself saying “For his sake, I hope he did.”

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Fin

To be continued in: Supply and Demand: Stolen

**Authors Note:**

I’m not entirely sure I succeeded with this fic.  
I knew exactly what I wanted to achieve, i.e. pit the dual view of Dean against the collective intellect of the BAU team. We, as fans, know that Dean is a hero, and not a sociopath, or narcissist or Borderline Personality or whatever else a profiler might diagnose.  
  
But... unless you have all of the facts, Dean in the cold hard light of reality is a scary individual. So I wanted to bounce off the idea that Hotch could ‘sense’ Dean’s true nature but would be suspicious because of the supposed facts. 

As a result, Rossi took on the role of embodying the ‘cold hard reality’ view leaving Hotch to navigate the way to the truth. And I didn’t want there to be easy answers, a nice sit down chat with Dean spilling the beans and everyone realising how wrong they were. I wanted to leave big questions and doubts for the BAU team. That is what I wanted, but I don’t know how well I brought it across due to the short nature of the plot. 

BUT I liked the idea of the brief encounter with Dean, of first impressions being challenged but not solidified or verified. Also, I decided to leave out a lot of BAU team thought processes and aftermath and save it for another time. Criminal Minds is a show with a lot of talking heads and I can write talking heads, but the required depth of actually profiling and explaining the technicalities, not so much and  I wanted to focus more on Hotch and Dean and the action. 

I debated a lot with myself on this one and in the end... decided to go with my gut and hope you guys ‘got’ it as well. 

And Sam. My feeling is there are only two reasons why Sam would not have already broken Dean out of T&E, namely 1) he felt it was for Dean’s own good and that he was better off and 2) he had a lying demon telling him that it was for Dean’s own good and that he was safe, fine, a-okay. The conversation with Gibbs would have raised red flags, but luckily Ruby is on hand to put out the fire.  J

So once again thanks to those who read but didn’t comment/review. And even bigger thanks to those who did and for letting me know I wasn’t/was completely off base  J


End file.
